we can't always be who we want to be

i used to think i was strong-
a bra-burning, no-crying kind of spartan strong

i thought if i said i-
don't read romance novels
because they're cheesy, unrealistic
hate receiving flowers
they die too early and tragically
love murder stories that
test the limits of human cruelty
cook my own meals
because i don't need breakfast in bed
refuse to take medication
my immunity can take care of it

i would embody the image of
the strong woman that i thought i could be

but after all the effort,
i've realised i still-
turn into mush on the receiving end
of a flying kiss
love the smell of floral in a park
on a breezy sunday morning
wake up lazy, lethargic, bored
and go to lectures famished
appreciate the cupcakes i get
in class from aspiring bakers
understand humans nature more through
selfless stories of the hurricane victims
sob myself to sleep
when a fever burns through my skull

perhaps now i'm a different kind of strong
-and that's okay.