I’m ugly. I’m ugly inside. There’s a demon hidden in my heart and I can’t get it out. I’m broken. I’m broken inside. And everyone can see it. And everyone knows. No one will touch me. They’re afraid of the poison…. Of the cancer that has taken over my spirit. They know it’s contagious. And so I lock myself away. And so I must be quarantined. In my straight jacket…. I can harm only myself…. I can gnaw only at my own mind…. Eat at my own heart…. And I mustn’t speak of it. No, no, no, no, no….. Strong Black women don’t break. Strong Black women don’t cry. Because who will follow a broken woman? Because who will trust a tainted heart? No one. The answer is no one.