Because of the black dude I so loved.

You want to know what's deadly? Not being sure if he's just playing with your pussy or your heart because they both feel good. 

They both feel loved and are bursting with great things, but the excitement goes down when he leaves. What's deadly is not dying to your flesh every time it wants to jump away from God and count to 3. 

1. It wants to know about the D that described love and sex so similarly they sound the same when they're written about. 

2. A flesh that isn't too quick to dance in distress, but will dance in this dress for one guy or two or 

3. This is the same flesh he destroys, but beat me into loving her unconditionally because his last bitch wasn't a damn thing like me-- she wasn't secure. 

Didn't approach the throne meekly, was bold and rambunctious in her approach. Wasn't much Lord in her talk much like when he was absent in my undressing at the park.

Flesh clashed with skin and formed goose bumps on my inner thighs, everything but my eyes he held with pride. Never knew what life I spoke about in my blink- never cared to see I was crying at night. 

He asked me to open up, so I parted my legs and spread the word all over his alter... That isn't Exactly what he meant, but that's what all the other dudes wanted. That's what I get for thinking he was just another Nigga. #LateNightPoetry

The Grendel in Adam

Your eyes cock to the side as I sit beside you. 

This bus rolls parallel to some city streets but, I can smell the Grendel of you in my sheets. 

You've never stepped foot in my house 

yet your breath is 1/2 as thick as God you still consist of dirt and beast. I can see the the ash in the folds of your hands. 

Your palms haven't matured yet, there is still work to do. You have to repair us before we are broken because I came from your rib and have been breaking my back since a child to make half you and half of my momma proud... I don't even know your name 

But I promise to not let my words be as beastly as your presence you sky scraper of a man, you stand towering over my 5 foot 3 frame like the liberty America's statue didn't depict as a black couple 

We are the start of this got damn planet because God started in the dark. I am yours Adam, or Grendel or... 

 I don't even know which to call you because you're every man I've ever imagined and wished to claw my honesty into their eye lids because they've only seen me as an evil bitch and didn't bother to ask why my face was so ocean in the morning time. Not even the Pacific is specific enough to fill the voids I reveal in my voice. 

My heart breaks before the day. I've watched you rise and set and rise and set you morning, I mean dynasty of a fellow.

And to think... When we were younger I wouldn't even give you a hello. And now I'm willing to thrust my heart in places it may not even want to fit. I apologize, Grendel, do you forgive me? Adam do you forgive me? 

Obsessed with the cold

Remember back when you was mad obsessed with me? Couldn't take your eyes off even sang and wrote poems for me. Now you acting different and I admittedly blame myself because I gave you a sniff of the ill nana and you was never worthy of a kiss. You are a clown, we can tell by your attire you've been real tired lately. Explanation as to why the hell you slept on me. Who gone write your songs now? You could never really sing because the weight of your jaws got in the way and my weight blurred your vision. Said I was too much to handle, yet you held onto my love handles like you loved it. Like you loved me. Like you had sworn to God to protect my virginity. I left for Virginia that spring break. Took up life on the hill for a week just to discover my power. I left it in your eye lids the night you ruled me fool. You no longer laugh at my jokes because they're all about you now. I've been the punch line for way too long. Remember when I said I'd never write a break up poem about you? Well, I kept my word-- you never were my boyfriend. Only a kid that played pretend in knitted hats and gloves that smelled of love. I was your obsession for a while... Then you left me out in the cold. 

Unedited--Truths

Jazzmine, 

   One day you'll be tired of being broken hearted and you will tell your mother exactly what's been on your heart. Each time you two talk you part your lips to tell the truth but, her feelings and tears get in the way. You have been fooled for way too long. People may have hurt her but, that isn't your fault. Don't take her shit laying down. She needs to know how terrible her shit stinks. Will this push her even more into her life style? No one knows but, if it does she chose to allow it. You are only responsible for what you feel and do. Not their emotions and actions. You are cut, dry honest with everyone on this earth except your mother. You can't be this honest with her with out being disrespectful and normally you say fuck what is and isn't respected when it comes to the truth so what's stopping you in this situation? You know she didn't want a second child and you happened to be just that... The second child and she treats you just like that. You get treatment your brother knows nothing of. You and your emotions are down right disrespected in that house. In one of her ears and flys right out of her ass, she don't get a fuck about you and that is the sad truth that you must live with. Dance in it! Accept it. But you will not live with it in your heart. Pray for her for she knows not what she does but what others have done to her. She has the "they hit me first" syndrome and it's sick, yes but you can't change that. You can't beat it out of her no matter how bad you want too, don't fight unless you have too. Do not let her take the best of your kindness. This here life you live is a test like none other. Can you pass it? You're almost done baby girl. She's afraid you won't come back once you leave for college and she fears this because she knows good and well how awful she has been to you. Once you're gone the men will come in by the dozens and you can't do a thing about it and it's okay... She's an adult. STOP TRYING TO GET HER TO GET YOU! She's not suppose to and she doesn't even want to. She's praises the ground your brother walks on and you will never receive this love and it's okay... Love yourself enough to not even miss her when she leaves you alone. Love God enough that he fills all voids in you from head to toe. Stay faithful to him all the days you live. You're hurt and no one understands you but, it! Is! Okay!!!!! You seek that mother in other women and you haven't found her yet, maybe you just have to sit in the fact that she aren't suppose to have a mother so you can feel all the emotions of a motherless child... When you have kids you will love them fearlessly and with every bone in your body. Nobody, not even GOD himself will be able to shake this love you will have for them. Love them like you've never been loved... Love them so much it'll scare you. Love kills hate any day so love your mother too... Sure she has hurt you but, it's okay. Kill her hate with love and love you, her, your brother, your father. All of them that hurt you most love them until that have no reason to hate you. Love them in secrete if need be. No one knows where you will end up in the next year. I just want you to be happy. More happy than you are right now writing this on your way to work. Never be evil... Women before you have traveled these roads to make God proud to write your name. You will be a lady of great word on day. Live up to this. You have big shoes to fill. 

Thick lip and beast

Tonight got to me... It was good even though he was bad to me. Poetry filled the souls in me that were alone for ages, ages younger than you. These couldn't be stone even if I were the rock. I like to think I'm closer to pac, or he to me whichever come later. I am leather. Plump like the brown thick lip beast they were afraid of back then and you'd be a fool to think not today. I didn't die yesterday, still can't speak for today because I'm not home yet. Haven't double dipped in your eyes because you never removed them for me in the first place. I... Am parts of the city they never warned you about. 

Royalty

The clinking of spoons on bowls. I feel the vibrations of a fancy history on my fingertips. 

I see black butler's dancing from joy that finally this job is a choice.

 I can taste victory in my throat and God slithers into the cracks of my teeth. I’ve ingested his words and let his conviction beat me into dance. 

I step to no tune.

 Make music with my body I don’t hear a damn thing when I taste caramel on the roof tops of my mouth. 

Love is rock and roll in the shower, do you ever go as wild as fireflies in mason jars on stormy nights? 

On those nights, I am a song and I vibrate your bed railings and rock you to sleep when lovers and sex can not make your legs shake like noodles. 

I feel the waves from fancy spoons again. 

This time they’re in my stomach. 

This time they’re making a mother out of me. 

This time God isn’t so sad. 

My feet planted on grass that grew from dirt. This love clings to me like meat and potatoes do to fancy China when it isn’t familiar. 

It is lightning fast. Moves quickest in the mountains of sand my ex-boyfriend’s head is buried in. 

Feel the wind brush your face like fox fur. We are the silver and gold spoons of Africa. 

The queens we call mother and all the times she’d not eaten to feed us, that is royalty shattering into glass and repaired with ice cold water and a bandage. 

Her eyes could always fill the voids and direct the paths of her babies. I find my feet vibrating in sync with mama's every blink.

I’d walk on fire mountains and chase thunderstorms just so I could rescue her thunder bolt and allow her to remain my Zeus. 

I feel the royalty smack my knee caps and push me in the right direction. I clung to the spoons and bowls whenever I was away from home because home is where royalty lived. 

Home is where my secretes live. 

Home is where my momma lives. 

I wrote this poem during my attendance at the 2015 Session 1 of the Iowa Young Writers' Studio. I'm forever grateful to have been chosen to attend such a highly ranked writing camp and the friendships I've made are priceless. All thanks to the University of Iowa. 

No room

There are some days I sit at poetries 

Table and wonder if I am still welcomed. Wasn't offered a hello or a microphone, I can speak all I want... 

That doesn't mean they're willing to hear me. I can 

Take as many dramatic pauses and breaths as I please, 

That doesn't mean poetry accepts me. Nor does it 

Tell me if it ever did, I probably was like 

That annoying friend we've all had but didn't dump because 

They were just too good to us. And poetry truthfully was like love. We were in love with it but decided to dump it when it stopped giving us what we needed, or better yet what we expected. I once sat near 

The 

Thrown of poetry when it probably should have been God I had placed 

There because after all, poems are words from men and women who've been jaded. Poetry no longer sparks emotion for me because everyone is just 

Too damn deep with 

The shit, not every poet is as sad as your, our, I mean my life is. But not once did I stop 

To 

Think about poetry not accepting me because I refused to soak in 

That sadness, 

That salt of 

The cheek like substance. I was receptive 

To 

That blocking, 

That blowing 

That low blow of writers block. Never 

Too deep with 

The shit I just spoke loud enough 

To where I wouldn't need a microphone. I demanded poetry 

To look me straight in 

The face and make room for me, even if all 

The elbows, egos and pencils were 

Taking up space. 

So I Thought

I thought you would have at least had the decency to pretend like you liked me after your fingers collided with my privates. It's no secret I fucked up! I shouldn't have been so quick to give husband privileges to someone who isn't even my boyfriend. I fucked up because I didn't know I was this fragile. Maybe I should learn myself before I tie my soul to the devil. You got me feeling like rhythm and blues. Not much lady likeness left in me so lady can't sing the blues. But hoes can feel it. Hoes can sense it. And hoes can make nightmares manifest when we thought only dreams could come to for-wishing... But, aren't nightmares dreams too? Aren't nightmares what break us out in sweats, cold sweats like H I I I V? Not even public Aids is this scary. Not even the devil, or so I thought. I looked him in the eye when I kissed you. One eye open seeing if the both of yours are shut. You even kissed me like you like me just a little bit. Even if it was a lie it was enough to calm the lions in me about the head you gave being just a scam. You ate like you loved it. A feast indeed it was but, your heart didn't select it. I was just something you dug out of your bag when you got hungry. You loved it! I'm convinced you did. Even smacked & licked your lips then your fingers. You sir are an actor. 

Dear person that sits next to me in physics class,

I looked at the side of your head today

 and realized that you are dumb.

Pretty you are but, video vixen you are not.

However, that's your dream.

 Fast money on that ass...

Your goal isn't to be respected but, objectified.

You aspire to be a

sex toy.

I knew you before your hips became the

 chips boys feasted on.

 You were ugly, saw no beauty in yourself.

Brainwashed and still dirty.

You want money but

don't want to work for it.

Little do you know

 you're a entrepreneur already.

Body no longer a temple but

a motel. Hoes tell the truth.

Speaking for what every girl

has felt at some point in her life but

was much too wealthy in

God to pursue it

before marriage.

 You are a screenshot

of your report.

The D's show you

Damn near

Dared to give a good

 god Damn but the

ejaculation

made your path toxic.

You failed me!

Told the secrete of the pretty girls,

you

eavesdropped on the good girls

and posed as

one.

High school

 beat the

truth smooth

out of

you

worse than an officer.

I
call
you
stupid




 girl.

Tip toe

We suck in our stomachs forcing them not to shake. We forget what it's like to be part woman and part hungry. Starving ourselves to fit into pretty. We are much too heavy to tip toe around a situation so, stand in this truth. Stand firmly in this skin for you will never get another one. He only appreciates your belly when it's face down, that's the style. He's oh so doggy! This is the difference between appreciation and pride. We never really know what it's like to make love or feel it... This extra lovin' on us blinds people from our hearts, our love has been camouflaged, well at least this is true for me. I was ready to present me to you, but you were much too fool to see the world I had crafted in my womb specifically for you. Etched your fist name in my finger tips, when I lotion my face you'd kiss me every morning. This was gold for a fool and my legs were the X that marked the spot. You weren't G enough to hit that. Smoother than baby hairs, I won't front you finger fucked the lye out of me, no wonder why I don't relax. I can't fake this here, I am all natural. Secure in my thickness, I'd rather sin and make battle between my own legs than to let you declare war on my cli to rious. Virginity ain't never been this bold, but it has been hungrier. Fat belly Bella faked feelings for a fuck, but I don't have either one of those to give. I can't tip toe around you, I am much too large. 

Make him watch

Last time I was in this back seat some things went down. Legs shaking, heart racing, and my panties came down. Gripped my legs, licked his lips, I stroked him on his shoulder. Hands played the heels between me, tried to keep myself from moaning. Wanting to move more than just his finger was the reason he deceived me. Played the guitar with the string of my thong, he always did like music. Sang mellow hellos to my lips, and hips. You felt all on my legs. Every inch you touched locked my soul in you. Ankles, locked in heart. Calfs, locked in mind. I can't get your print out my mind. Thighs locked in lust. I lusted after you, I'm lusting after you, bottom parts of you still throb in my palms. I still lay in your arms on dark nights, I pray by your side whenever strength doesn't find your eyes in the morning. It rains in the summertime for you... You missed a great thang, I handed me to you and that's where I went wrong. But I will never want to right this wrong cause you were right about everything. You use to be the stutter in my speech and the reason why I could not think about anything other than you. Couldn't think about how life would be without you. I couldn't imagine what the other side of me would look like without you beside it. You looked me square in the eye and told me you loved me with a mouth full of lies. Every fictional thing you said gave me butterflies. I once thought you saw me as beautiful. Because you have a Big Beautiful Woman for a mother you will find something beautiful about me, or maybe I can't be as beauty to you as she is, at least I thought I wouldn't be disrespected. Too fat for your sex, good thing that wasn't what I came looking for. I came to play for hearts and keeps but you came for child's play. I imagined us to be something like a game of chess. The queen protecting her king however, you are not a king... You are simply a peasant in the presence of me the queen, you will one day serve my king. Until then I hope you find our father who art in heaven hollowed be thy name thy kingdom come that will be done on earth as it is in heaven give us this day our daily fool. Behead him and make him suffer, make him watch as the men is supposed to love me fills his spot. Make him watch as the man who is supposed to love me takes on the characteristics of God. Make him Christlike and make my husband whole, but make him watch for I am happy and he will never be whole without me. Make me the single puzzle piece he will forever miss. Let him know that my heart use to beat simultaneously with his. Let him know that I used to would not inhale unless he breathed in my direction. Make him watch as the man who is supposed to love me makes me whole... Make him watch. 

Come Find Me!

I know niggas in shackles that'll stomp your face into the gravel. Tangled wrists and minds unleashed, I may be in jails, but my minds running ramped. Hide, seek try to find me flesh & mind intertwined. Death row means nothing to a nigga that's already incarcerated by the streets. Dance, shoot me. Go on a killing spree. Do not rescue me. I am spiritless. 

      Bones crushed. I am fleshless. I do not exist in your vision. I am blind to whom ever I enter, my wicked is colorless. Can make a mockery out of a brown boy or a god. I am the best and worst angel ready for my return, he isn't the only one that's coming back for his people. 

        Step back into your chain Gangs and nooses, I've made them more expensive than you can afford, I've memorized the whistles in between your jive and finger snaps. This is why I kept you enslaved for so long. Written books that had various ways to decode you, but you'd rather read the back of CD's and still stumble over your own credits. 

         You are spiritless, flesh fresh to death, but you are upon my mercy. I show no mercy, I am spiritless. Don't give a good god given damn about your Tim boots, I hung your daughter from that tree. You left her with me, I show no mercy, I am spiritless. Dance, shoot me. I am fleshless. 

        Upon this rock I shall sit my universe this is not the playground of the holy. You couldn't read the music, but you can hear it begging you to shoot me. Dance shoot me, I am fleshless. I am spiritless. 

      Everything that once was holy can be evil. Everything that glitters can't be yours. You are fleshless, fit fresh. Corner boys and brown liquor, somebody's bound to be made to be fresh to death. This is what you get when you march to maybach music. 

      Not rich enough to know you come from Queens, cause that isn't just where you've slept. No candle lit memorials for the beauty that died the day you signed yourself to me, no young money is old enough to know the coldest nights is spent with a crew that wouldn't die with you. Get money, but would they pay for for your funeral when I'm done with you? 

        Spiritless, I show no mercy. Fleshless, I make niggas fresh until death. Tangled wrists and minds unleashed. I am running ramped, come find me. 

Sweet 16

16: "when the sky falls and we're all lost, we just open up our hearts to you." 

1: not yet grasping the world with my feet, at the age where I'd learn most... I never learned to run to you.

3: She said that was your uncle. He looked at some of your lady places that made you grow dirt under your fingernails for poison. He is why you be so introverted. 

2: you never lived with your mother. This, this lady holding you is not your mother. You live with her, but you do not belong to her. You live here, but you do not belong here. You'll be out soon. 

4:   Our Father who are in heaven Hallowed be Thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done, On earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day, our daily bread...

6: you're a lil chubby.. But it's okay. You can pass for cute, right now. Soon this will get old. 

5: there are no girls out there like me. I want to paint my nails... But I still want to play with worms. Why won't my auntie let me play in the dirt? 

7: She doesn't love you. She's out in the street. He's dressed nice, but that isn't your father walking behind her. 7... I tossed and turned on the foot of Grand mama's bed. Hot, cold sweat. Cold sweat. He's mastering your flesh, but don't open your eyes. It'll all be over soon. 

9: you can't even fit in a 9 year olds cloths anymore. You are the hand me down fabrics, not even the nice ones, the only ones that stretch. You're quiet, why are you so quiet? I bet you eat all of your words... 

8: stay back. No telling what he can do. Stay back that can burn you. Burn every part of you that no one can see. They'll all say you're lying, but only you'll have those battle scars. 

10: discover parts of you, but not too much. Leave parts for someone else. 

12: Sit up straight! Wear these stockings! Get up! Church in an hour. But who is God? 

11: ooooh boy, this is not good. Tell no one. You're weird, cross your legs, no one can know this. 

13: YOU AINT GROWN!!! 

15: Here is fruit for the crows to pluck, For the rain to gather, for the wind to suck, For the sun to rot, for the trees to drop, Here is a strange and bitter crop.

14: you're not sure if life with a him or her will be befitting for your resume into heaven. So "pray you will be ready, pray you will be ready. Pray you will be ready when Jesus comes."

16: "all of me, loves all of you. Love your curves and all your edges. All your perfect imperfections." 

16... 16... Sweet, sweet, 16! 

Freedom in education

Freedom in Education...

Hey, what did you learn today? She expected me to say I learned quadratics or reproduction in my Biology class, but the hallway's and corner boys teach you more than the teachers do. 

       

This isn't an average day, but it's black history month and my school has not one single black inventor, teacher, or any blacks that were the first to do anything in out hallways, but expect me to pay attention in class. 

     

An open heart is better than a transparent book. They figure we learn more from Twitter and TV so they don't even bother to give us books in school anymore. 

        

Old work sheets and snapped pencils, snaps in poetry club make me human. 

     

Take away the Chicago in me and just see the poetic free that they try to put a price on. They say there's no price on education to justify why they keep taking our money. 

       

Sleepless nights constructing projects is the price I've paid for a free education. 

      

  Poetry told me more about life than any of my mothers lessons, school only taught  me to keep my eyes on own paper, yes I'm talkin' Green. 

Red, Black and Green because there was no room to fit my black in their flag.

     

 I spend class time in the hallways and still pass everything. Learn to listen to yourself. Never be afraid to be Bi-Racial and curvy self because the bullies don't know how to travel within your guide lines. Never mind them, stay in your lane. 

      

Don't dumb yourself down because they aren't educated in life. Don't tell them your secrets. Coming to school is what keep you out of trouble. Better a class room than a court room. 

        

But seems like our court rooms are more populated than our classrooms. Schools shut down, but graduated kids smarter than the suburbs. They say because we're poor we're stupid... But we say it takes skill to dodge bullets, run to catch a bus home from school and carry our siblings all on one breath. 

      

But since when did being speechless  parallel us to ignorance when we choose to rap our words instead of cram them into college essay's. When will you learn to look at us as human and not test scores. 

        

Maybe if you talked to us instead of failing us you'd know why we saw our answers as right, but your un colorblind ignorance chooses color over character. Colors are the only thing school has seemed to have taught you. 

        

It is possible to still be an educated fool. And no, this poem is not a permission slip for my generation to act like we're ignorant. That can no longer be in our vocabulary because we are literate. No matter how much or how little we may be we can read and write stupid statuses on Facebook non the less we are literate. 

          

School is something they kept from us so do us all a favor and steal it back. They always blame the black boy in a robbery so you might as well go to jail for having a voice  instead of sticking to no snitching. 

       

Have you ever stood in a third grade classroom, misty eyed with emotions in your throat because the kids only knew Martin and Rosa but the teacher forgot to teach about the one who in the opinion of many was the most educated in life, Malcolm X. They're trying to X us out of their flag. 

       

Adjust your jeans and show them what righteous looks like. We were the first creation under God, but we're proving to not be all that indivisible. 

       

We pledge allegiance of the red, black and green, Our flag, the symbol of our eternal struggle, and to the land we must obtain. 

One nation of Black people, with one God for us all, 

Totally united in the struggle for Black Love, Black Freedom, and Black determination.

   

In education is the land of the free

Cane

White trails under oxygen 

               I inhale, exhale and hold 

Onto the truth. 

              Infinity records spin

Blood shot red.

Blood shot blue.

Sorry 3,000 times

This year alone more than 3,000 mothers will be lost among the masses. Trapped in death, they will stop beating. Always trained to give ourselves to our babies, we lost it when we lost them. No one tells us what to do when we cry. Not even how to hurt out loud, no one tells us how to stay alive after still birth. No one can ever warm this cold in my soul last night I saw my baby. I reached out, but couldn't feel a thing where was God in all of this? We are alone in all of this. Tonight, somebody's mother will be the eyes in the background. The song when this earth is crying out loud. Can't you hear that child humming in my melody? She is my rose that grew in concrete, and I never got to see her smile. Tonight 3,000 mothers will be lost in the system. They said they would help us but nothing can help this, can you hear the hope in all of this? Can you hear my spirit crying out in all of this, where are you? Never had to yell your name, I couldn't even mumble it. I knew you wouldn't be there. Trapped in death, we've even been trapped in silence. SILENT... Sometimes our heart beats lump in silence, silent like their cries. Silent like my cries, and sometimes it's okay.. There will never be another you, but baby I love you for all my imagination stretched you out to be. I've praise danced on the sides of bridges, fettling with life and death in my toes cause my hands were much too tied into expunging you off of my records. Deleting the plans I had of putting all of my favorite records on and teaching you how to step. They didn't even let me see you. I have to play dress up with the assumptions of you I have tucked between cheek and teeth, I prayed you'd be a good girl. Much like momma, I would dress you like a pearl, but you were one of the dreams God asked to stay still at birth. I had to stay still in the mist of missing you. It rained during the burning of my feet, I danced on your mercy. We danced on y'all's mercy, this time it wasn't mommy's fault. You just slipped away from me. This year more than 3,000 women say sorry. 

Locked in skin

I'm Skin. I am no longer your prisoner. 

Brown woman know no fear no more. It cremated itself. Seemed to have taken the shape of me, I feared myself. 

       Promised granny I'd never cremate myself, she said it'll send me to hell. Closed my eyes and made a pact with the devil, pinky promised him infinity to forever. 

       Wouldn't want to stain God's angel costume with my color, you say black is forever, but they didn't think so. Water blasted by those made to protect us. I cremated myself before they got the chance. 

       Prepped myself for my own casting down to hell. Black robe and red lip stick. I took out my soul, washed it & put it in his pocket. Devil you took hold of my soul, but this earth will forever have this body, brown, and blistered. 

       I'm another black body swinging in the earths breeze cause we don't just die in the summer time. Black berries be sweetest so they eat us alive, vultures they are. 

         Come to the darkness, where you may, but most likely may not survive. This body, brown skin of mine, never asked to be light so to have some kind of burden my hips lay heavy weight upon the world. 

        They always got to find something wrong with me. Maybe this cremation of her was mental. Maybe she was molested. Or maybe she was black... But why can't I just be tired? I wanted to sleep forever. 

      Being black blocks bad business dealing with the devil. He may have glitter, but it will never turn to gold. Burning for a fix we sell souls for phony kicks & stones. We wait all weekend to get high for this. 

       No tan can get brown like this. They use to cremate us, now we do it for them. Skin. I am no longer your prisoner. Brown women know no fear no more. We pinky promised to cremation, for infinity to forever... Locked in skin

Black Music

Ears black like leather, he could hear my every move. As quiet and as humble as he was, he rode the bus to get use to himself. 

     Said he had never seen a lady quite like myself, said he had never heard a tune so smooth. He shuffled his fingers into my hips, he played me like I was his guitar. 

        He wasn't as hard core as rock, more mellow like acoustic. He said I talk good English, I speak good. He had eyes as deep and dark as my soul, no yet rotten. 

     He would holler: "Ay, yo brown eyes, would you be my blues?" Flattered, I let him find all the right places for his fingers in my hips, I was his piano. No other woman could confess and make home out of the hallows in his chest. 

      Though I could never fill the hole of the lost of his son, a touch of my body insulated his soul so he wouldn't be as drafty, he blamed me for why he didn't get drafted into the NFL, he said: "You be too music for me. If I left, there would be no reason for me to scream your name everyday, it's like I almost stopped singing." 

         Your sway is a melody, your vocal cords wrap around bodies, brown bodies like bags. Will you let these rings wrap our fingers? Be my broadway. He sang to me like I was his microphone, the theater and the only one who'd listen when Def Jam was too deaf to listen to his mix tape. 

          He had ears black as leather, lips, black as an oil slick and I had hips and body he made music with I was his instrument. 

       I was the grammatically correct talk between his stutters. I was the incorrect one to mess with cause... Momma ain't raise me to be no fool. She said my daddy was black like sam bow, he be half white. 

        But black as the residue from week old crack infested teeth, black like you, him and me... Even though according to Granny I be yella. 

        According to them if I'm darker than a bag, I'm not eligible for their society. I'm black like his ears. My daughters will be black like his ears, their daddy will be black like his ears. Their daddy found the ridges of my hips past my belly, I was his piano. 

       I was his wife, we could never afford a car so we rode the bus. I was his instrument. We could never afford a car so we rode the bus. He strung my heart strings. I was his guitar. We could never afford a car so we rode the bus... 

     He said it was how he would get use to himself, he being black as an oil slick, me being light as pencils, I wrote his music. 

Beast pt.2

I look at you and imagine a beast. But I am the beautiful. The red in your corvette which is really a bus card I gave to you. 

   

  You stumbled on my door step and demanded I mend you back to health. Heart all flustered I did it anyway. Jumped off of cliffs into hell for you and I still lost. 

     

  And all you said was "Sorry." Not even face to face, but through 

e-mail. I cried out your name in satisfaction, frustration, and even hope but I refused to put any of that feeling into my text back, so I didn't reply. I don't know how to be anything other than truth. 

     

     I could never get into the habit of lie like you. 

  I never could have lived knowing that I didn't share with you all of me, didn't know what you didn't love on me nor did I care. With out a care I gave you all of me. 

       

So beast, why'd the rhythm in your love change? Pressed against stone walls on winter nights you made an oven out of my back pockets. To the world our hugs appeared innocent. 

   

   And in a sense I believed it. 

  You be enough fiction to believe yourself. You look nothing like innocent so I never suspected your loving be good.

   

   I wrote about Beauty's kiss and the beast's transformation. Pushing away my gay I prayed you were Prince Charming. 

     

    Like truth in my heart, I'll be that missing punctuation, you need to finish your sentence when you're much too broken like dialect falling off lips from under developed countries. 

This affair hurts worse than 17 hours of labor and coming home with no baby, I gave birth to your heart prematurely. 

 

   Never imagined a soul I could tell, too afraid to be stoned by sinners. They threw stones and hid their hands when this earth to God is like glass houses, he saw everything. 

So pretend like you didn't love me all you want. 

God has seen, even I have seen you on the nights your speech was too drunken to witness me in the middle of your heart like drunk drivers, stop signs and oil slicked roads. 

      Everything about me said stop. But, you couldn't.  

Had all the signs, but you couldn't. 

Couldn't resist having me whole bodied 'cause part of me wasn't enough. 

     I traveled your heart like serpents on hallow roads, I am the beauty of your beast. We be like beauty and the beast. 

6th Love

To fall in love with you silently is to love you forever. The quietest love hurts the hardest when it breaks between cheek and teeth. You have to suffer in silence. 

      I can't pretend like I'm happy that you two are together. But I won't rain on your parade because you always shined light upon mine. I just have to figure out a way to not suffocate my heart, get over it or wait until you come around. 

     I've planned out our wedding six times since the sixth grade when we met. My life was complete when you hugged my silhouette in the lunch line and right then I some how saw the finish line from your shoulder. 

      And in one message... 

All of that was over... For now.

      You're someone who's real and worth all of my time. Even when time runs out I'll still be waiting. 

    Maybe I'm a little too late. Or you're just not ready. Falling in love with your BestFriend is always complicated. The rhythm in our laughs change, the tightness in your hug lost grip around my waist, I even felt your heart beat die out a little bit when it recognized mine. 

       Not one of the girls you've been with can say you've prayed with them. Talked about God and even sang with them. Your thoughts harmonized before our vocal cords could. 

      You're the only one who understood my mood swings with just a head nod and some dap, we were homies first. 

        When I gave up on boys, you didn't give up on me. You focused on God so much that the only time you looked up from your bible was to Greet me at the door. 

        You called me Princess before I even saw that you're my Prince Charming. 

      You took the long way home so I wouldn't be alone. Long nights on the train wrapped me in your voice and made me whole. You're like my personal protector. 

           Like God you walked beside me to shield me from all pain. You praised the grown I walked on, and I'm just now realizing, well I'm just now admitting that I love you back two fold. Too old to be playing games, this love makes me full like moons. 

        I've never been in insane, but I'm crazy over you. I'd fight the rapture of the earth over you. Living in the city we can't see many stars but you still shine brighter than the whole constellation. 

     Too bad I can't tell anyone about you. You're not a secrete it's just nobody's business. No one needs to know I love you from dawn to dusk then again at dawn. These butterflies are like born again sinners who didn't learn their lesson the first time. I'd love you in part, but that isn't fair because you love all of me.

      You love me down to my ankle socks and sins. If we never love each other as husband and wife can we at least stay Best Friends?