make me wonder why I found you.
antsy to know all there is to know about this meeting.
never imagined we’d be meeting.
maybe a passerby type situation.
but never a bit more than a greeting.
but. you’d greet me.
whenever we were in the same space, I could feel you peeking.
felt your eyes make an honest woman out of me.
who told you it was okay to try
and make an honest woman
out of me?
what a mockery to the woman I be.
I be not so ready to be tamed.
not so steady to be aimed.
but we became.
like something struck
feel the fire from this flame
though we be of Earth,
this connection, another plane.
knocked stars from sky
one landed in your eye
when you’d look at me.
when you’d look at me.
when you’d look at me,
I’d swear you wanted me to be
it’s been a while, baby…
so I… I ain’t for none.
but I’m for you.
I’ve got poems flowing through my heart, for you.
it’s everything short of new, when paper and pen are meeting.
it’s no wonder why we’re meeting.
I gave you pages in this bibliography.
ultimately.. gave you me.
I hate when we’re not speaking.
it’s just not the same
as when I’m there, showering
and you’d be peeking.
join me. confess how you long
make an honest woman out of me.
someone should have warned you that I’m too wrapped up in these words. wrapped up in my dreams.
be sure you’re ready to bring the honest woman out of me…
I felt hands grip my chest
felt breaths in excess on the nape of my neck
I heard sirens in background
heard silence in black,
sounds seemed mute
at this hour.
I wonder if we’re the only ones up
at this hour
letting tension build
devour, the reasons
and leave us
to face ourselves.
look at where we’ve placed ourselves.
moving forward so vast I can’t help but ask if we tend to hate ourselves.
or do we just give love to each other with plans for no one else?
or was I the only one entangled in this fairy tale?
risk the fail?
or fair thee well..?
Sunday, May 25th @ 8pm
1200 w 35th street
love and relationships show me that you can’t rush things. you can’t expect anything or pin an obligation on anyone. things change in an instant. feelings change. situations change. love gets misplaced and misunderstood. I get so in my own head and fear consumes me. “I don’t want a repeat of last time” “I wanna do it right this time”. I know I’ll survive the next heartbreak. but I just don’t wanna have to.
I really don’t.
don’t you get tired of watching over your shoulder, child?
how you can’t go play outside on your bike
this mess of a world created for you
can’t you see you’re just a pawn?
never planned to be a knight
made to be tough
society makes you rough
they don’t want you to run
just want to run up your luck.
until your demise
don’t you wish to dream?
without sleeping for eternity,
you can dream.
stop letting this music make you
long to be apart of a team
or a gang
we use slang
but must you bang?
must you buy into the facade?
on the real
it’s okay to be real
and be you
it’s okay to stay in and watch cartoons.
it’s so ugly to see bodies laid out on steps
don’t you wish you could have your friend back and be able to play ‘round?!
don’t you wish you could hold your cousin again?
would you want to change then?
can’t you see?
you’re being used.
and our prayers have yet to be answered
while you’re still being preyed upon
aren’t you tired?
aren’t you tired of being used
and being caught
and being killed?
it’s sad that people of power have devised yet another plan to get us to kill ourselves.
leaves less work for them
and they get to make money from our blood being shed
it’s sad as fuck.
I don’t know if I should mad
or just understand that America will never be for us.
they pretend to push equality
pretend to want to stop the violence
they act like they’re affected
ban owners from their team
to ease our anger
and continue to eat our money
they act like they care
cause showing their hate causes too much of an uproar
and I’m tired of the silence!
I don’t want to watch the news any more
I just want to raise my child
to be better
she will understand that self hate is real
and there are people who feed off of our hate for each other.
I just want to see us loving one another
we’re SO much stronger when we do.
and I’m just tired for you, child.
29/30 [letter to my pelvis]
what’s going on in there?
you got a little person in there stretching and yawning in my shit?
whatever is going on in there, it hurts!
it feels like a midget is tap dancing on my ovaries
like there’s a war going on between my eggs and my sanity
like…. hell within my hips
it hurts… like there’s hell within these hips!
I should be glad about this moment in my life.
the moment that confirms my womanhood
I’ve been branded
and been apart of the womanhood since age 11.
it makes me look forward to menopause.
you laugh, but I’m serious
my pelvis is pain
28/30 [homage to my hips. in spired by Lucille Clifton]
these hips are big
beautifully wide, these hips
for dear life.
the ride gets real
with these hips
makes boys wish they were men
wish they were a fly on my wall
in my room
a passing thought in my head
able to make home in these hips.
these hips are mine
to feel on
and fill in
watch them spread wide
been had em since I could remember
been has em before the booty came
and I just looked awkward
now I look like woman
like where Heaven is.
like where your peace come from
here, within these hips