This is not edited or looked back over; it is just a living poem of my thoughts while trying to describe myself in any way. I do not believe I am anything, but I believe I am everything.

This is an emotional piece about my family tree. We have a family story about how our great-grandmother was cursed by a voodoo witch, a curse that caused every woman in our family would never find a loving husband. I don't know how much I believe in it, but every generation of women and every single one of them is divorced, single mothers, with multiple fathers to children, except the aunt that was adopted, who does not have Marshall blood. Whether we are like this because of the curse or simply the hurt that all the failed husbands left, I do not know, but all Marshalls are swamp monsters.