Thursday, June 27, 2019

Wild

She's only twelve
But according to you
"Oh, she must be fucking"
"She's fast"
"She's wild"
"She's going to end up with a child".
But she's twelve.
"She better stop wearing them tight clothes".
But they're just shorts and a t shirt.
"She needs to go in the PILL!"
A child who is the victim of all the world's ills.
"Stop walking like that around these men."
But she's twelve.
And those particular men are the ones who to need make amends to their sickness and their sins.

Black little girls aren't fast and asking for sexual attention just because they're undergoing a biological process.
Black little girls don't control how quick or late they get their period and it doesn't have shit to do with them wanting to be touched on.
Black little girls deserve autonomy over their own minds and bodies
Black little girls aren't trying to be "grown" because according to you, she developed too early.
Stop molesting black little girls
Stop calling them wild for developing breasts
Stop calling them fast because their hips are widening
Stop assuming that they're ready because they're releasing eggs at ten.
Stop fearing black girl bodies
Stop treating them like ticking time bomb baby making machines
And start treating black little girls like rain drops of ingenuity and the creative minds of the world.
Start teaching them to clothe their minds with knowledge
Instead of commenting on how big their little butts are getting at twelve.
And how they're "filling out".
Stop treating them like they were born to be just a wet hole for somebody
Simply because they have vaginas
And two x chromosomes
Black little girls are little girls
Black little girls are innocent
They are intuitive
They know when they're being preyed upon
But just too scared to cry out because way too often there is nobody to come save them.
Because they "asked for it"
Because black little girls are really grown women in small bodies and underdeveloped minds.
Because they are told that they're liars
Or asked what were you wearing?
Or looked down upon while they say "you probably liked it"
Or that's what happens when you act fresh.
All she did was smile
And even that is enough reason to think that a black little girl is asking to get raped.
At 5. 10. 11 and 12.
Black little girls aren't fast, easy, or wild at 12.
The community is. The world is. And we can't see it.
PROTECT BLACK GIRLS.





Wednesday, June 26, 2019

Blood Rose

The color of our passion deepens
As we lay in each other's arms
One thousand moments since the day we met.
It is the dried scars from the times we've cut into each other's flesh with our words 
Harming each other's souls as if we were swift razor blades dancing to the tune of sweet melancholy
They say love is one inch away from hate
But how many times did we love anyway in spite of our war? 
What is really hate when your touch feels so good?
What is really love?
Perhaps it is a blood rose.
Beautiful from our wounds that paint it red.
The magic of us existing with occasional sacrifices of each other at the altar.
Every one of our tear-drops falling onto delicate, crimson petals.
The flower, revealing its desire to protect itself from us and the world through thorns.


But who protects us from ourselves?



Thursday, June 20, 2019

Untitled Short Poem

Depression creeps up on you like a sudden sickness
Nothing to look forward to except my bed
Dishes need to be washed.
Food needs to be cooked.
Floor needs to be vacuumed.
Laundry needs to be done.
But I will let them go for one more day
Because my energy is trapped inside my own head.
Me battling myself to get up and cook a descent meal for myself.
But do I even deserve a descent meal?
Do I deserve anything?
Chained to my covers and to the darkness.
Sometimes tears fall.
Should I just end it all?

DAMN

Damn.
There she is.
The woman who could love you in ways that I couldn't.
The one to take you to the heights during your life journey
And the one to endure all the storms and your lows.
She has become the keeper of your treasure
Your heart
And here I am.
Watching you take her hand as she floats down the isle like a majestic swan.
Enveloped in white
Blushing with embers falling from her cheeks
As she stares at you.
Beautiful.
All have come to worship her, including you.
And I stare; painfully at the view.
Your hand stretched out to her.
Singing her praises like a hymn to a goddess.
It should've been me.
But yet here I am.
Outside of the tabernacle of life.
Eyes bloodshot from jealously.
Face somber from heartbreak.
Body aching to be loved and caressed by wedding vows.
Holding back tears.
Biting my tongue to feel the pain of it, in order to avoid feeling the pain forming in my chest.
Soul emptying
Skin cold and longing to be warmed by somebody's fire
Constantly searching but never finding
Finding something but always searching
Fingerprints left from past lives with you.
Now becoming erased and forever forgotten.
I have become a shadow to your new star.
And to think that it was going to be me.
It was never meant for us to be.
I wish, I wasn't the one who was wrong.

Thursday, May 23, 2019

Already beautiful

We are already beautiful.
No scalpel or hand brush can re-create what's already perfect
Designed by God
Manufactured by the divine.
Who said that we had to change?
Because the last time I tried to,
My soul got rearranged.
Because I felt so messed up
That I couldn't look like someone else on TV
Not knowing that yes, though they are beautiful
My beauty is unique to me.
We are already beautiful.
Every shape, size, height, skin tone, hair texture and mind.
Having just one standard of perfection
Is like saying a lemon should be a lime.
A carnation should be a rose.
An eagle is inferior to a swan.
When all of creation is different
Why do we have to choose which is more worthy?
Even nature gives us a variety.
And every variation is good.
Damn good.
God knew humans weren't going to be satisfied with carbon copies.
That's why we were made to sing the songs of our own magnificent wonder.

Tuesday, May 21, 2019

Dear Black Father

Dear black father
You are something invincible
And unbending to outside, destructible forces.
You have carried me on your shoulders
Even though you carried the world too.
You cried on the inside because the pain
Would sometimes be too unbearable
But you stood firm like a 200 year old tree in the Amazon
Unphased as heavy rains pour
Using every drop to add to your strength rather than drown you.
I am a product of your willingness to never give up in life, but to live at all costs.
To strive for excellence because you shine through me like the sun onto its moon.
You are more than a black panther who hunts and moves in stealth in a society that sees you as nearly invisible.
But you are a god who has protected me and guided me.
You have raised me up many times when I felt like falling.
When the thought of letting go crept into my being, I think of myself as the daughter of a mighty spirit. Warrior and King.
And if you've never allowed yourself to break, no matter how hard times have gotten.
Than neither will I give myself the fate.
The iron to my shield.
The blood to my veins that give me will.
The small of my back that straightens under duress
This head that's held high above my shoulders while in my heels and pink dress.
Your role as father has made me powerful.
Thank you for carrying me and showing me strength.

Tuesday, February 5, 2019

Dear Black Mother

Dear Black Mother
I am  in awe of your transcending strength
Despite the ugliness of what life has thrown your way at times
You persevere
You push hard
You birthed more than my life
You have birthed psalms, healing touches, and brighter futures
You plant miracles
You manufacture magic
You are educated in God and in books
Your skin cell burst gold also known as melanin
You fight monsters
You conquer fears, including your own
You create

And I can only hope to be a fraction of what you are to me
And what you have done for me
And have metamorphesized.
You are a goddess
Angels fade into the distance when you speak
Your voice is the voice of a thousand rose pedals
Your steps toward righteousness has superseded Proverbs 31
Crowns do not do you justice
For there is none that is worthy enough to be placed on your person
You triumph over pain
With every morsel of grit you destroy your obstacles
In order to make new doors
You are feminine and powerful
Earthly and unearthly all at once

Dear black mother
May your lineage live on eternally
And manifest itself into a higher humanity.