Lifetimes

Every corner will only lead you back to the beginning.
The lines start to melt, hot wax chasing you
to face
scream after scream
of faces you want to believe-
Tell say that you are wrong.

You always are.
At some point, you might even
let the voices crawl closer,
let the scorching wax run over you.

I fought for years,
and I want to say I still am.
Days and weeks and months and years-
A
l
i
f
e
t
i
m
e
of hearing that I am
worthless.

          A lifetime
          of being told I am a sin.
                    A lifetime of knowing I will never succeed.

I fought for years,
and I want to say I still am.

Strangers will not define
my worth.
Bullies cannot know
what my God believes of me.

The only block between success
- and this person who hasn’t even lived yet- is me.

It may take a lifetime.
But, I will work for those years,
learning week in and week out
that I have power.

Day by day,
I am beginning to remember…
My soul was put on this Earth to blaze a trail with the hellfire of my Truth
to light the way for any who may need it.

A Runaway

Scuttling in the rafters,
I hear it, but don’t move
hoping to catch it by surprise.
I hold the empty page
of my worn notebook
- tattered with every thought I've ever managed to get down -
open,
ready to snap close on the idea.

This particular rascal is
running around my house
at the moment,
knocking over
meticulously stacked books and empty coffee mugs
and tearing up
every stray loose leaf
I had laying around.

“No!” I scold my poem,
her words at the tip of my tongue,
“We don’t run with knives! I repeat-”

She stops for that, but only to
wag her finger at me,
“Don’t bother writing
any words at all,
if they aren’t meant to wake someone up.”

And maybe she’s right.
If only she’d let me
write her down
on even just a napkin.

Only Some Words

“You’re sad and angry
all the time.”

“It’s what you do.”

She speaks those words
and my stomach dropped because
It might be true.

My throat swells
- my energy popped.
Where once might

have been joy,

lies only regret.

If only I could
                        count
                                 oh,
                                      just all the things
                                                                   I've heard,
that have been
said about me.

It would be quite distressing,
an awful lot of hate.

But, people, they don't know me.
It is easy to say that
and mean strangers on the street,
but you have to remember that
it just might mean your family too.

You are the only one who has
experienced all of the things,
the only one who knows of all the
stolen cookies and guilty pleasure songs,
no one can steal from you
your memories and your soul.

You are you
it is as simple as that.
They can say words,
and they will hurt,
but you are mighty
perhaps like mitochondria.

Understanding

There are things
I no longer wish to understand.

In first grade, I was teased for
bringing rice and beans when
the other kids had PB&J.
The next year we talked about
Martin Luther King Jr. and
I realized, “Mommy! I figured out what Daddy is!
He’s a black man!”
I understand that people see us differently now.

I wish I didn’t know
just how far
my sadness could go.

Knowing how easily
your heart can be broken
is something you cannot
come back from.

There was a time when
I didn’t understand trigonometry,
and I still don’t.

And, there was a time
that I never wanted to grow up…
I can’t say that has changed.

I learned to understand that
no matter what life throws at you,
you will survive.

So, You Want Me To Love You?

So, you want me to love you.
You could ask a crowd how to win me over,
but who would know, but me?

Write me a poem,
but it better be good.
I don’t want what’s been said,
or anything to dread.

Can you play the guitar?
Oh, the lines you could sing!
That certainly deserves a bronze star.

Will you kiss me so softly?
like no one before?
Please, it’s not costly, what I might ask for.

Please, just one rule is sure,
don’t bother asking anyone else
before me.

If you want me to love you,
and if you believe in true love,
then I’ll call us a taxi if you’ll show.

Love poem (to no one)

I could say you look like flowers
and smell like a masterpiece
but that's all been said before.
I want you to feel special
like no love has ever existed before you
because it's true.
You are lovelier than even the
softest petal of any rose
for no creases diminish your beauty
You smell like fresh baked cookies
that only your mom can make-
like home.
I could say the same clichés over and over -

but no words come close to
describing that you make me feel
like my every hair is on fire with a
feeling of right.

Merely Reading

Who lets there couch cushion their fall
on rainy days?
When water darts across the street,
full of secrets,
slick with misery.

                                        Curl into yourself.
                                Let the musty aroma
                                overwhelm you
                        fogging up your noes
                 letting your mind
        fill with words
your body floating to never land.

Merely reading to read isn´t reading.
Live in the faraway lands -
live to shake hands with those who hold the key.

Perhaps,
winds will smack against your face as you run, run away,
your dress mocking the sun with its colors flowing around your waist.
Watch out.
There cries a silent hand, a plea for forgiveness.
The weight of the decision you don't have to make.

Where you are:
it is just a rainy day.
If only this feeling could stick.

Being Enchanted

the feeling after the last page
fuzziness where well-defined edges may have once been
think, yellow stars
not quite walking, not quite floating

You aren't always aware-
in the moment-
that you are being enchanted.

Magic is being transferred,
everyone deserves a slice.

magic is knowing that loves can crash
because there is one out there, yet
magic is believing in yourself.
magic pushes you

that first page will wait for you again.
Read again. Try again. Dream

Because of You

Rising up because
of the heat filling your chest—
Rising up because
Notice me.
Rising up to
better stand to see you.
I want to know
what your eyes are seeing.

What words do you read?
Which sunsets have you watched?
Are you seeing me?

Rising up because
my body cannot seem
to contain this feeling.
Rising up.

Aye, Aye Captain

I’m sick of waiting, okay?
I don’t need a prince with greasy armor, or whatever.

Forget the prince, I am a Captain.
These may be uncharted waters,
but how else do you learn to sail?

It requires patience,
long-term planning,
impulsive decisions,
and maybe a dramatic spin of the steering wheel.

Only a Captain knows their ship
the best, and the true ones
never stop learning.
Whoa! Look, I mended that

splintering plank. Now,
no one will step on it.

I journey to help others,
but, also, because it is the only way to
stay afloat.

That is all you need to do.
Stay afloat, please?