love this

its hard to love this flesh

that everyone curses

people poke and prod 

and open wide up 

to examine

if your really made of 

tough stuff

we mules of this world

who carry it 

all on strong backs 

with clenched jaws

dont tell me about any other 

people 

i only know my own

how successful you 

are is related to 

how anti black 

how anti woman 

you become  

and hear i stand at all those

cross roads

wondering if my adhd 

mind will be silent 

or my hands will stop turning over

pages of text and scriptures

and find respite 

where is the well spring

the water

when your to tired to go looking

and to thirsty to even admit 

you have want relief

dont make my 26 years tomm 

try to mean something 

package all my shyt 

in a nice box with a neat bow

somethings

just need to be burned

lets the ashes

be scattered

as sacred 

an atonment 

an offering to a god 

i soemtimes question

let me be enough as it stands

in all its confusion 

and brokenness

all its want 

and need 

let it stand alone 

be enough as it is

so that when it comes out dancing 

it will count for something

it will be tangible 

and quantifiable 

let it live so 

it may make its own memories

out of its own dreams

and for once

know it is good  

it is complete 

it lacks nothing

so i may know 

so she may know 

it is good 

it is complete 

even in its mess 

and crazy its enough 

napkins and names

I write your name over and over on a napkin as I sit in a bar drinking cold beer and eating colder wings
Every stroke of the pen makes me more aware of the ache in my heart
It started off as an absentminded type of thing
A way to pass the time since you left and now with every pen stroke and L my heart bleeds

So I keep writing your name because at least now I know why the ache is there 

For the first time is months I feel
And although it pain I settle for it
Because your name on a napkin makes my heart remember its alive
I wish I had some resolution
Some neat lesson I could summarizes and make sense of something
that make my fingers remember to write or my eyes dance
you were that
A incarnate reminder of my own beauty reflected back to me
Now your just a name on a napkin in a empty bar
A broken promise
A memory of all I had stopped hoping for
There is no space for my name on this napkin
You take up every crevice a urge I fought against when we were dating
It's funny when you were here I wanted space
Your gone and I long for some proof that you were real
That you existed
That I didn't just conjure you up
I need to know it was flesh and bones
Heart and head
Not just imaginary dinners
And long talks
I need to be reminded of mountains

See your name sketched in grand cannons 

But your just names on a napkin
Where there is no space for me.
I wonder if my name was smaller could it fit
If I was smaller if I shrunk would I fit?
What if my name was more powerful more demanding
Would it leave space for both of us
Maybe there is just no room for both of us
No room for mistakes
No room for missteps
No room for two people on a small napkin
So I wrote yours because mines seems wrong right now
It seems like all of the we didn't work
I called it to fast
I am too emotional
Insecure didn't ask enough questions
Rest on my name so I write your trying to understand breaks and breakups
Death and loss
Most of all just trying to see if one day I will ever write your name so much that I forgive
And move on
And remember the syllables of my own broken sound
Unabashed and imperfect
But always my own name
My own being
Always my own power
And length
Never tucked into neat packages
For wrong men
Who never have space for mistakes
Or anything that illogical
Never room for me
One day hoping that my name too
My feelings too
My ideas
My thoughts too will matter

built houses

Why don’t you believe in second chances?
Its easier to walk away
Then fight for worthwhile lives
I too used to take my bruised ego
Lick wounds in lonely places
And wish someone loved me enough
To come find me
But it was never about them
It was always about me
I needed to come to a place of
Worthiness
Where my own healing wasn’t tied to what
Someone did or didn’t do


I wish for that for you
that you see your own beauty
Your own greatness
Your own healing seperate from the mistakes and
Mishaps of others
Then maybe you would believe in second chances

Too

Maybe then you could build dreams on unpractical ground
Build houses of brick and motor
and permanency

I'm trying to build houses 

16th street style
Mansions
Victorian French doors
Spanish adobe style
Cottage quaint
Southern big post columns with
Expansive memories
And enough space to breathe and move
With someone else
Someone not you
Someone who only wants me to occupy his house
Likes me for how he feels around me
But he is not home
He is not you


You are mow the lawn
Run through the sprinklers
You are BBQ and backgammon
You are the things love stories are build on and hard times lean on
You are how houses are built
Over time
Careful
Brick by brick
Moment by moment
Every overcome Argument
And late night convo
That makes us remember our humanity
And maybe your my Romeo
And I'm not your Juliet but atleast I know how I want my house built
how i want it to look
what i want it to feel like
i will always rearrange furniture
i will always change the energy
fung-sha
to make it better
but the foundation will always be reconizable

dont be scared of second chances
of big houses
with poweful women

and big dreams


women who like you used to run

for our grand grandparents

who taught you to be poised in the face of challenge?
i watch you smile
and cry half tears
down a face with cheekbones
sturdy from turning them over to your enemies

i would have cried had they put me out
clung on for dear life
in the face of insurmountable odds
i dont leave neat
dramatic tends to be my specialty

and who taught you grandfather
how to love with you life
set an example
with your movement

the last time i saw you you were little
not the big man i remember
i hear stories about you leaving south carolina
during the great migration
and think would i have had the courage to choose?

leave or stay
stay or go
sometimes its easier to not pick
a destination
to wander
and be free
but you didn't have the luxury of dreams

your hard work
paved the way for me
to be a little more leisurely

and this is for our grandparents
the ones who did back breaking
work so i could pick up pencils

the ones who aren't heroes
lived quiet lives
in unfamiliar cities
these are for the ones
the jim crow south spit out
or swallowed

i cant imagine not becoming invisible
yet you worked
for me
for us
and so this is for the elders
that loved us
and gave us spankings and peppermint candies
dollars and stories
fried chicken and sweet tea

this is for the heroes
on whose strong
shoulders we stand
and whose shadows we will never
be fit to walk in

this is for the ones who really raised us
and whose memories keep raising us
we rise for you
for whoever taught you
has taught us

we are

we are women
who love men
who love themselves

women who risk and
pray
and rise
and pray
and lay
and pray

we are women
who plan
and plot
how to roll away stones
at tombs
hostile
takeovers
in Sundays
best

sometimes though in the quiet
of the morning
in the stillness of the trees
who sit undisturbed
nothing can be heard
but anxious breathe

we want to scream
in the silence
make a scene
disturb the stillness
so that
for once
something can feel like we do

have you ever
held your self together for someone else?
taken shallow breaths so someone else could exhale?
have you ever cried for 90 seconds
because that how long you had?

we are women who love
women who love us
when we cant love us

we are women who work
and wait
and wait and work

women who try and ty
and try and ty

made out of silk
and cotton
our hearts are woven together
tightly until we give someone
a pair of scissors
and the potential to hurt us

we are women
who take the mess
of life and make masterpieces

women who live in a world
but are from somewhere not of here
we are of the soil
and the sand

women who know we are only as strong
as our last heartbreak and
best friendship

The older we get, the more we understand that the women who know us and love us - and love us despite what they know about us - are the joists that hold up the house of our existence. Everything depends on them. 

bracing

Bracing

I wont be held hostage by your feelings for me
The ones you cant process
So you allow them to chew over in your mouth
Mix with insecurities
And double over with fear
Until that which is good becomes bitter
And no I didn’t ask you for your heart
I was contend
To wait unitl you gave it freely
So please don’t treat me as if
You are doing me a favor

And fear seem the basis
Of all of our doubts
And I doubt if you even
See me anymore the way I show up
Don’t withhold yourself from me
Id rather you leave
Then be half hazard
With my feelings
you said once you prayed you wouldnt hurt me
what did you think ignoring me would do
what would it solve

i am forgiving
but i am not stupid
i wont watch you
become unfamiliar
and wait on the sidelines
i told you my secrets
thats my own foolishness
i own that
i have learned
nobody can hold me
better than i can

and so its over
as quickly as it started
and im left bracing
for impact once again
waiting for the crash
for the tower
to come crumbling
and to feel
but that never happens

im so used to being left
i never leave
this time though
im walking away knowing
i was vulnerable
i tried my dammest to be seen
you just couldnt handle
what you saw

and no i dont fit into small boxes
and neat spaces
i am contradictions
and tension
i am a workaholic
who hates working out
who gives her last without question
or regard
i snore
i have big boobs bras dont hold
i like holding hands in public
i would have sat still for you

i would have waited for you to come
home from parties drunk
held your head over toilets

it wouldnt always be sunny
but i would go to hell and back
for light

im not perfect
i cuss to much
think to often
disconnect fast
i struggle
i dont always communicate well

but i would have tried for you
i would have left work at work
turned off my phone

i would have never tried to change you
i would just become a better me

and no im not three square meals a day
i drink to much coffee
i baby my brother
i go to church to often
i am distracted
and organized chaos
is how you once put it

but i would have laughed and cried with you
i would have been broke with you
and fought with you
i would create memories with you
and climb mountains
and cook meals
i would have been a mirror for you
so that you could see your best self

now im just bracing for the next impact
the next heartbreak
the next mis step
praying the next time im honest
and vulnerable with a man
he doesn't decide im not worth the fight

fear

fear speaks in a voice that
sounds like someone i trust
tells me run in the
opposite direction
away from the unknown
and in times of transition
like these i want to listen
to fear
stroke his ego
tell him he is right
and righteous
tell him im sorry
for ever doubting him
for imaging possibilities
and promises
tell him he is my one true
love
no one else could ever know
my dreams
my desires like he does
and thats why his voice
speaks so loudly
it drowns out my own

fear tells me that every thing
that could happen will happen
so i brace walk around tense
and stressed worried
about falling in love
and out
worried that every call
or every word spoken
or not means something

fear tells me my worth is predicated on my
work and so my work
becomes my worth
and i forget to dance
to eat
to live
to learn
to be
with my whole heart

there are some non negotiables
to fear
one is surrender
i must turn over everything in my pockets
in my purse
he needs full range
he needs all my attention
all my devotion
and so i come in empty
and you fill me up

second is intuition
he cant have me listening to my gut
he must have me in isolation
so only his words ring true

third is unworthiness
i must be convinced that
nothing else is acceptable or possible
and fear has won

but there was something in my hands he
didn't confiscate
something he missed during our first
water boarding session
where i was completely
immersed
drowning in his lies
learning to swallow him
and throw up anything else
it was hope

hope a small thread
of grace wound up wrapped around my fingers
and i held on to it for dear life
rubbing it between
my index and thumb just to make
sure it was real it was there
and it spoke to me
for the first time this morning
as i laid choking
and crying on fear
screaming and swallowing

it said
you are more than enough
and i dont why but this morning i believed it
this morning
i trusted something other than fear

i dont know the awsers
most days i dont know the questions
i dont know the outcome
most days it doesnt matter
i just know that today
i saw my first love as a liar
and i dont know if i could ever look at him the same

its not failure that scares me
i do that daily
and the promise
and possibilities of
a life more than
that make me thankful for hope
and grateful that i finally saw him
for who he is