She had to unbecome to become. She dismantled the independent medal of carrying weight that wasn't her own. It lost its value. The timing of exuding high levels of masculinity was embraced during its season that it was a necessity to endure. Lost timing of documented; undocumented hours spent under the time clock of the world. She unbecame to become the outcome of peaceful healing. She unbecame a nonstop machine. She became her. She prayed; stayed in the scripture. She forgave what was once deemed unforgiven. No longer allowing it to control her. She grew before she even knew. She torched a fire to what was undeserving. Then fueled her soul with the simplicity of what gravitated to her naturally. There was no longer force. Not due to lost purpose, but submission to purpose. She unbecame the woman who hustled to do it all. She became the Phoenix who levitated mentally; utilized each feather for its purpose. Her aesthetic was chameleon— embodying one on a million, blending when needed, standing out— simplistically unique. The fire became her shield. The flames enlightened her understanding. The wind lifted her spirits. The wings of her perspective took flight with sprezzaturian guidance. She became art; artistry, musifully. - E. Ex.