Stop

Stop dating men
who tell you they
love you,
after they've
drowned their problems
in whiskey.
Stop dating men
who run away
at the thought of
you telling how
you REALLY feel.
they"ll never be able
to handle your truth.
Stop dating men
who think the only way
to get you to listen
is to throw their hand
around your neck
and becoming a monster
in your ears.
Stop dating men
who ignore when
you say you miss them.
who complain of
your sensitivity
your "clingy" personality
or how you're overreacting.
Stop.
Because you deserve
someone who listens
REALLY listens
to your every word,
who knows the inside of
you,
not just through
your pussy.
but through your mind as well.
You deserve more
than a lust-filled
boy who likes
to claim he's "real",
yet he cannot communicate
without tearing down
your character.
Stop.
From here on out.
No more.
You deserve the best.

dear past me

there is no perfect time

anybody that tells me
that they are waiting
for the perfect time
to capture my love,
and love me in return,
i have learned,
have little or no
intentions of ever
loving me back.

Cheating Yourself

I used to get excited
to see your name
show up on my phone
late at night,
while i was at work,
when i was in the shower.
I would rush and hurry
to respond to make sure
you didn't lose interest,
and that you would reply
just as fast as
dried off my legs
and failed to rub lotion on.
And then I realized,
I was doing the same with you.
I was rushing,
hurrying,
making sure that we took each
step
one after another
without taking a break,
to make sure
that you didn't lose interest,
like i knew you eventually would.
I wasn't right for you,
and I tried to avoid that fact,
because I loved you.
I made you a country
in my world,
something like
Germany
in World War II.
You dominated.
And I tried to ignore that
at the end of the day,
you had more to find out about
yourself.
You weren't certain.
Instead of me acknowledging that
and passing you on
to yourself,
I tried to aid in your growth.

I became naive enough,
to let you stunt mine.

Lessons

Regret is not progress

Fantasy love

If I could


I would fall in love,


not carefully,


but clumsily.


dangerously. 


i would lose count 
of 

how many times 

we’ve 
screamed I love you.

I wouldn’t have enough 


fingers or toes to 
number 

how often


we stay up all night


day dreaming


about what our combined love


will make


and how passionately 


we’d make a life together. 


we wouldnt give up. 


not because we didn’t have


the option,


but instead


because we saw no one


with as beautiful


and intertwined


a love like ours.

Love yourself before you love me

Darkness

at least i was your something

it isn't hard

to see that

i am your

3 am thoughts,

your drunk words,

and i know that i always will be.

that's okay.

even if i can never be

the lover of your dreams,

nor the lover you

whisk away 

with lifelong

commitment,

it was a wonderful journey,

to be there,

while you were drinking your

vodka,

and you were 

waiting for your dreams

to come up 

to your eyes

late at night,

when you couldn't sleep.

walking

i hope that me leaving,
brings you a
breath of fresh air.
a relief,
a sense of a new leaf.
i hope you don't forget
the sun
waking us up in the morning.
i hope that you can see the
imprint of the smile
you left in my eyes.
i hope that you can see
the indent
me leaving,
has left in my mind.

intuition

i thought that if
i silenced you enough,
you would disappear.
i assumed that you
were here to destroy
everything i came across
with anxiety
and confusion.
like a rebellious teen,
i recognized what you could
be harming,
instead of
what you were really saving me from.

nourishment

tears fall down your face,
falling apart
on your bathroom floor,
like petals off of
a dying flower,
the leaves
of a tree,
and then hours later,
when you thought the sun would never
appear again,
you bloom,
and you can smile.
the tears
are
watering your roots.

womanhood (10 through 12)

X

you are a woman.

brilliantly, beautifully

a goddess

created to bring bloom

to the flowers,

and sun 

to the rainy days. 

XI

queen,

sometimes you

let your love

fall into the hands

of thieves.

that doesn't mean

you should give

your love

any less.

XII

have you watched

the way 

your skin lights up

when you dance in the sun,

and sing with the moon?

you are one

with mother earth.

spring fools

try and tell me
that i am not honey
to your wounds,
and i will question
why you ignore the
blatant truth.
my love spreads on your
body
like butter
on warm biscuits,
and goes deep
inside of you
like a humming bird,
tasting a sweet
hibiscus flower.
yet, you still act,
like i am not
the most beautiful
love
you have ever
encountered?

Womanhood (7 through 9)

part VII
a step forward
in a word dominated
by men,
unaware of the
strength of being gentle,
by a woman
is contagious.

part VIII
she let the words
of her heartbreak
of her oppression
of her compassion
fall from her lips,
like delicate flowers
from a magnolia tree.

part IX
you can ask a woman
can she walk in heels,
but know for sure,
she can walk into a room,
and let her confidence
shine brighter than the sun.

Continental Love

Womanhood (4 through 6)

part IV

she balanced beauty

on the top of her crown,

while also walking delicately

on top of knowledge.

her greatness

was infinite.

part V

she had grace,

but she was more concerned

with how she

spoke to herself

early in the morning

and how she tucked herself

into bed late at night.

she wanted to love

herself.

part VI

she favored a queen,

she was a goddess.

she turned to her own

love

to make herself

better.

she saved herself.

she became

better.

Womanhood (1 through 3)

part I

 What use is it to be sexy,
And not also use your brain
As your secret weapon.

part II

She kept
Her entire world
In a locked chest
Within her reach.
She only revealed the key
To those
Who had
A chest of their own.

part III

She was always
Dancing with time,
Never missing a second.
Never bargaining
And trading it
With someone that
Didn’t understand the
Beauty of her clocks.

to do list

I just want someone that

texts me in the middle of the night

when they can't sleep, even if I am

to tired to reply. 

someone that

tells me all of their thoughts

even the painful little ones,

the ones they thought no one cared about. 

a thousand and more 

times of telling me they love me,

listening to my ramble

writing down the details

mentally. 

a cute text here and there

describing how my hand 

feels in the middle of the night

when I'm holding them.

I want them to love me.

Differences

I am a poet. 

Sometimes I forget

That I feel in stanzas, and

Talk with a rhythm

Only poets use. 

I expect people to explain

Their mornings with

Intricate details

'Well I danced lightly

Through the warming sun

While feeling the cool breeze

On my neck,

As I searched for something

To nourish my physical form.'

And instead 

I get

'I had cereal, my morning was fine.'

I am a poet. 

And I have to remember

I'm different. 

I speak different. 

I feel

Different. 

Her (skin)

Africa (Brown is Beauty)

beauty.
descendants of
the melanin rich
motherland.
the birth of
royalty.
the holder of beauty.
the country of
grace,
strength,
constant beginnings
after attempted endings.
brown will always
be beautiful.
we will always be
thankful
for your giving.

I can't keep silent about my love for you

I could tip toe across
the garden of flowers
in your heart,
But
I want to make my presence
a bit more known.

Soul Friends

I meet the most beautiful
people
by stumbling
into their storms
and dancing with them
in their rain.

kingdom

there is nothing
more
painful
than watching
my black
brothers,
king made
beings,
with such
mighty blood
pumping
through strong veins,
being treated
with such
hatred.
they want you
to believe
that you are a carcass,
found on the side of the road,
with no significance,
only there
for the lowest of animals,
the dirtiest of animals
to feed off of your
death.
they forget your royalty.
you,
black men,
you belong at the top of the sun,
shining down,
glistening,
walking
with grace.
you,
black men,
you deserve to sit on
top of clouds,
smiling and laughing
and living life
with such glory.
blackness is not a disease.
it is a blessing.
and while the vultures,
the maggots,
work sun up
and sun down
to destroy you,
you will always
be the king
of this jungle.

separation from beauty

I can be beautiful,

but do not attach me

to a word

that creates 

so much tension 

between my sisters. 

causing us to fight for

attention

amongst men. 

let me be as free as the wind.

I am a tree,

surrounded by many other trees,

and we each have leaves of

beauty. 

we each

have beauty. 

but we also all

contain different types of

nectar

and we each grow 

in different types of soul. 

but that doesn't make us

any less of nature's

creation. 

I can be beautiful. 

but our hearts make it easier

to tell us apart. 

we are not a word

of separation. 

we all have a part of it

thriving from our roots.