I forgot how to breathe so I dreamed instead (an apology)

She said she would be there for you.

You believed her but never acted on it, so you stayed away till today when you finally decided to come back to the home 

Where everything started for you, where everything she wrote was drafted and 

In hopes of 

getting a hold of me 

She sent postcards I never received on time, often getting them months after I was supposed to get them 

And I promise her I will never forget that effort, 

She'd want me to be there for you.

To exist in the bare minimum existence: a series of beginnings #1

I want to comfort the world

I want to comfort the world, 

but the world does not accept me. 

It does not want the gentle warnings of a mother, 

who can then comfort you by allowing the reminders that you're not alone. 

It does not want a sibling figure to look after-

a baby bird disregarded from its nest; 

something Earth inhabitants can understand. 

It does not want someone who stands out or puts their thoughts & rules at risk of being changed. 

This understanding is something I have been okay with, but my tongue is over. 

The world does not want someone who can analyze, see the outcome; 

who can come up with solutions, all from the good people. 

I want to comfort the world, 

but how do you comfort something that's so far from being truly comforted?

Growing pains: how things aren't

After living as a butterfly, after living up to the definition of my name 

flying here and there for a while 

I've decided to turn in my wing, to start my journey in relocating my old cocoon, so that I can crawl back into it like a bed or a sleeping bag and go get some rest. 

All of this in hopes of coming out as a caterpillar all over again. 

I never expected for these wings to add weight. I miss the consistency of branches; rather than ruthlessness of the wind that'll push me to the side at with the slightest breeze.

I missed how less than interesting I used to be, being able to crawl along without the worry of being put in a jar for children's enjoyment. 

But now as a butterfly my wings attract more than just my natural predators. Children scope me out by mistaking me as a fairy. 

I crave my protection on stealth like it was when life was once simple.

Anxiety

Anxiety is clothing-something that clogs up my now, but isn't really in the way so I just leave it there. I sift through it to try to put stuff together, and outfit, but something even after laying it out there's still too many stains, too many wrinkles for me to ignore, that's even after going through it to put out the body odor that lingers from the other day, that last conversation or that night I was so tired I fell asleep in them &; woke up in cold sweats, prayers, but I try not to complain, being able to do so comes with a price, my smile, the one that isn't always so bright, but still creates lights that I can't bathe in. It's okay, because I've gotten myself out of most of it, learn to dos - the do nots, a lesson that comes like ripped jeans, or shirts I forgot I even had.

It's a fool's game to keep falling for your flesh's desires and dealing with the repercussions, but still think you're ready for the relationship God has for you (a realization that hurt too much for me to have not gotten sooner)

And she learned what she had been forewarned, you love some and you learn some but you can only love others as much as you love yourself 

Now tell me how can you pour out of an empty picture?

She said that she was going to be able to get a hold of 

A prince 

If only she can avoid the time of writing 

Poems about pain she had felt just to 

Learn a lesson she could have avoided having to learn the way she had. 

She'd say that she was a little concerned about the fact that she was in a different place 

One that wasn't fictional so how would she find the man she was convinced to be the prince who would provide for her... If where she was didn't have princes in shinning armor but guys that could render her happier than was ever written in fairytale endings

To exist in the bare minimum existence: a series of beginninzgs#8

Are you the new person I'd be drawn towards? *After 'are you the new person I'd be drawn towards' by: Walt Whitman

Am I the person you speak of? 

This is the utmost flattering. 

My smile shines brighter than even the brightest named star in our galaxy; 

My heart, an athletic gymnast, 

doing somersaults perfected for your appreciation, 

but I don't think I'm the person you speak of. 

You speak of - a sent by GOD that you're not worthy to be in the presence of, but I'm being faithful - 

The role should be reversed... 

You are a trusty & so faithful, 

as I- I am more a housewife You dare not bring to mother. 

I am not the person you speak of. 

I am the person who will stay up all night getting no rest because you are on my mind,

when words that don't even mention you conjure you up. 

Oh, I wish that English was easy enough to speak around you 

for the person you text relies on autocorrections to be able to sound of a fair mind to you. 

So yes, oh dreamer, 

it is your illusion that's left you a drift that then led you to stumble upon me 

hoping to accompany me upon my path over & over again & to that I shall not complain.

Lasagna-Self Portait

She has layers that not everyone

can get down with,

Yes, her personality is cheesy,

but is that not the best part?

The cheese pulls that ripen tension,

the laughter - she is the comfort.

I can remember the beef;

the times. the places, the days filled with all the above

that made me who I am,

but that's only the tip of this ice-burbrt-ous dish

cause you still don't understand.

All the things that bring me depth,

my layers of all that I am

come from things that

I have not said

some of which have been

written down, so I guess you could say

that those layers, the noodles

of my being, my foundtion are made out of parchment, but is still hearty.

Sticker Star Questions as an Adult

Tonight I turn the lights off.

My sticker stars didn't glow.

Sometimes I wonder, are they and I somehow connected?

Am I ready to receive the answer?

Do they glow when my soul is where it's supposed to be?

Trancendent, heavenly;

the way it used to be before I knew & I lived the definition of gravity.

Do they glow when my mind is the clearest?

A house after spring cleaning or after having

a brain-dump session written till the words come out, dried up & forced rather than natural & lively.

Or do the stars glow when I need them to?

When the world around me is the darkest;

when the voices - internal or external - 

are the loudest' when my soul wants to be the peace keeper, but realizes 

there's not much peace to keep if there's none to begin with.

Does GOD tell my sticker stars when to glow?

To catch my attention just long enough to lull me to sleep like an infant watching a mobile.

She smiles when it pains her to move the muscles needed to do so

She smiles when it pains her to move the muscles needed to do so:

Get in line, a single file line;

One foot in front of the other -

do not complain.

She smiles when it pains her to move the muscles needed to do so:

Do as I say, not as I do.

She smiles when it pains her to move the muscles needed to do so:

Listen to the rhythm of my boots, listen to the sound of my voice & how it can crumble walls ... 

with vigure when it vibrates loud enough.

She smiles when it pains her to move the muscles needed to do so:

You know it literally hurts when I smile.

Do you care?

She smiles when it pains her to move the muscles needed to do so:

Sometimes I wonder if you follow me just because I am technically the one in charge.

We do this all for the appearance - 

to keep it up, so we don't become the unapproachable Black Girl.

She smiles when it pains her to move the muscles needed to do so:

most people tell me to smile, they're not smiling themselves,

I'm not a believer who thinks smiling could be contagious.

She smiles when it pains her to move the muscles needed to do so:

They say that the eyes are the gateway to the soul. What gateway does a smile lead to?

She smiles when it pains her to move the muscles needed to do so:

When I smile, I find myself wondering what the point is? 

My gap is still there & I'm sure no one will find that hole dug in the middle of nowhere, 

fall in it if I don't look, a gap in my mouth, cute.

She smiles when it pains her to move the muscles needed to do so:

sometimes when I smile, I forget how to breathe.

Alone isn't Alone

Long after the music qued,

before the seasons changed

I had grown a body & lessons were forced

upon me. I soon

learned that my body did not come

unaccompanied, it did not come without

a heart beating beneath my breast, but even

then I knew that my heart was not what men

wanted. For that to be what they wanted, I'd have to find a way to disguise it better

fit their desires, I had

to fit into their mission, make it something that

they can not live without, however, for me

to have done so, I feared that I had to learn a lesson that hadn't been taught to me

yet. I had to learn how to

be more than I am & maximize on what I am

less than. I sing a song that the birds

didn't mimic, so I gave it to an 

orchestra for them to make art out of it,

but I wasn't ashamed that I couldn't have done it alone,

because even I know - alone isn't alone,

but I learned that

Of the wisest of the wisest, God knew what

was to come even if I didn't.

Hold My Hand

Hold my hand with stable security,

I'm no older than a toddler; you are my

definition of safety before

I can even say the word.

Hold my hand & promise that you won't let it go,

let your hand become roots, my hand

the ground that it's steadfast in.

I am the fruit that blossomed from all

your protection.

Things that People Said Never Forgotten

You told me I was a blemish

and for as long as I can remember,

I believed you.

I called the acne on my face,

me 'growing into myself'

and you criticized me

for my appearance.

I wanted protection, but you gave me

barriers of things to climb over,

expectations to reach and standards to appeal to.

I'm worried ABOUT BECOMING LIKE YOU, so

I refused to receive your title.

I remember our conversations

like a giving ceremony,

I gave you my ears and listened

to all your crude remarks and all the 

things I failed you on.

I was never good enough,

still not, and yet you're 'proud of me'

I'm still at the waistside

that I feel by years ago,

waiting for an approval that never came,

that I know won't come, but I'm still waiting.

You called me a blemish,

now I try to make sure my face

stays clear of any imperfections.

I try to keep out of your way

but it is easier said than done.

Placed on the Cusp of Adolescence-

And then her fingers tear the water 

open & her body disappears into the 

pool-

'Just Jump,' she says as our heartbeats collide

over three inches apart from each 

other. I was the one who got us into 

this. I was the one who said we

should do it together.

---

I hear her, my love, yet I try not

to. This jump, a declaration that I

must commit to, a declaration of

all the things I know I feel about her.

---

'Just jump,' I say, but now our hearts

have gotten out of line and away from each other,

no longer in sync, now I'm the one 

holding my breath, hoping to hollow out 

my ribcage so my reluctant heartbeat

doesn't echo so loudly. I'm scared it

would scare him to jump off

prematurally. 

Carbonation/It's Amazing *After Nikki Giovanni: The Butterfly / I Remember

Those feelings

which you so secretly keep hidden are merely carbonation you truly wish to release-

a chemical imbalance, something you denying-ly convince yourself could become your helium, finally giving you the ability to get your feet off the ground acts more like an unforeseen anchor keeping you tethered.

It's amazing how I managed to learn how you breathe, 

how I've memorized your chest's rise and fall rhythm as a dancing version of tug of war. 

It's amazing how I've come to find out my body's combination of reactions to the phenomena that is to your own. 

How when you simply walk into the room, whatever stress I was being trampled under walks out;

How, when you call my name, I quickly forget how it sounds when anyone else says it. 

How when you say good morning/ goodnight it's the sound of a book closing/opening it's me being eager to pick up another one, 

flip through it knowing that I'll be doing it with you. 

How I hate/hated when other people looked me directly in my eyes cause I never knew/was never prepared for what they might/might've seen, till you learned how to do it/intercept everything that is never put to words, and learned how to convey this to me without making want to run, and allowing me to run towards you.

It's rather amazing.

It's Amazing *After Nikki Giovanni: I Remember

It's amazing how I managed to learn how you breathe, 

how I've memorized your chest's rise and fall rhythm as a dancing version of tug of war. 

It's amazing how I've come to find out my body's combination of reactions to the phenomena that is to your own. 

How when you simply walk into the room, whatever stress I was being trampled under walks out;

How when you call my name I quickly forget how it sounds when anyone else says it. 

When you say good morning/ goodnight it's the sound of a book closing/opening it's me being eager to pick up another one, 

flip through it knowing that I'll be doing it with you. 

How I hate/hated when other people looked me directly in my eyes cause I never knew/was never prepared for what they might/might've seen, till you learned how to do it/intercept everything that is never put to words and learned how to convey this to me without making me want to run, and allowing me to run towards you.

It's rather amazing.

A State of Mind

The waves of my mind are finally calm, and the currents and tides are still. 

It's almost as if I put a paper boat on this quiet surface,

the water would leave the paper alone, allowing it to float.

The waves of my mind, 

mellowed out, 

now a reflective surface, 

something that holds the moon the way I wish to be held and will kiss it like a mother's goodnight peck on the forehead. 

The wind, a quiet gentile giant whispering lullabies instead of criticisms. 

Words of encouragement and peace, a friend I never knew.

Carbonation *after Nikki Giovanni: The Butterfly

Those feelings

Which you so secretly keep hidden are merely carbonation you truly wish to release-

A chemical imbalance, something you denying-ly convince yourself could become your helium, finally giving you the ability to get your feet off the ground acts more like an unforeseen anchor keeping you tethered.

A Passenger

I see the train passing, 

I see that there are no stops that it keeps going till whatever distraction it's set for finally arrives and sometimes I feel like that's how life is, 

how every single day isn't necessarily a stop but a new sight along the way.

I am just a passenger here. 

Self Aware

She looks at me unblinking, staring as if trying to find something, as if trying to figure out if I'm holding out on her somehow.

I stare back at her trying to find all the answers in her eyes/our eyes but I find more of a kaleidoscope than a soul, find more of a journal of prayers than a book of adventures, 

finding more of a wishlist/bucket list of things to do beforehand, rather than things accomplished. She is all over the place restless, 

wakes up before I do/we do and stares at a sealing of stars, looking into the Milky Way, 

trying to connect all the stars like dots hoping to lead them down a path to get them out of the labyrinth but all she's really doing is getting motion sick trying to hold down her dinner from last night, all I'm trying to do is sleep but all I do is feel like I'm floating.

Floating instead of dreaming and dreaming instead of flying.

She would rather have her head stuck in the clouds, while I would rather find a way to lie down in them.

I do not understand her/myself/my own mind and that is why I write poetry