last night was great
explanations sent over visual imaginations
of what it could be if it doesn’t stop
here -
so please take note
that i’m taking notes of what’s going on
i know what it seems like & that’s not what it is
change of actions means a change of sight
currently blinded by this young, immature, insecurities
all things i’m harboring inside
if you just wait with me, not for me
i promise i’m working on making myself better
love can’t withstand all the worlds battles
but this one i believe it can
so please take it into consideration
that i’m young at this love thing
that i’m not really too good at baring my soul
to anyone, but i need to with you
because you are my better half, soul, sole mate
rest assured that i’m taking everything in my heart
hearing you clearly and knowing that i need you
i’m working on it
it’s all progress in the making
know that i’m listening and last night was a wake up call
sitting up till 5am
for once i slept peacefully not worrying about tomorrow
even though it was already underway
weights lifted, thoughts flying like a string in the wind
i’m your red balloon, just hold onto me
never let me go 

Do you still sound like
The girl that’s in Marvin’s Room
Getting the drunk call
?

late nights
school nights, weekends, and sundays
always spent up the street
in the living room
2 tables
3 people
1 goal
checkmate

checkmate
get in line, line
them all up so i can take them down
one by one
piece by piece
i’ll trade my knight
for your queen

i looked up to you
like a child lost in the grocery store
no paging system
just strolling the aisles
not light by glaring fluorescent bulbs
but instead lamps where the bugs 
make themselves dizzy in wonder

teaching me the game
piece by piece
one by one
you thought she was the best on the board
check
and i’ll take your pawn too

on the move
i’ve moved on since those nights
but sometimes i long for those days to end
no more responsibilities
and no thoughts on failed policies
just 2 tables
3 people
1 goal

checkmate
it’s coming 

I’m learning that spoken word isn’t practiced
It’s not about perfection
It’s about expression


And what a feat it is when a genetic trait is considered a talent

I’m not tryna brag
I’m no poet
Even as I stand here on this stage this mic is slipping between my hands from the sweat of my palms
These lines bear no (in)sight to what the future holds

But I’m still trying to keep the movement going 

See when you speak
The words should flow off your tongue to stream comfortably into someone’s ear
I’m one mile further down stream than I was last year

There’s no responsibility to rhyme

Prose doesn’t come in a definite matter to me
I wish the audience would become an allegory in my mind because they damn sho’ aint naked
I’d be trippin’ over hyperbole of words to say that my confidence has kept me centered

Truth is I’m more vulnerable bearing my soul to you 
Right here, Right now

Life isn’t like a simile 
Metaphorically speaking, I’m just a weak anemic on a cold Buffalo day
But it would be the day that hell freezes over before I walk off this stage

Words are tools that should be used for communication

So please listen to me when I say that I am far from           perfect
I just want the world to know that I’m worth it
Instead of doing the average thing of lowering my voice into that poetic tone and then yelling to be heard

I’ll cease to wordplay and become a master of these words

When I wrote haikus
my focus was five seven five
now I add it up 

Teachers stick like glue
When you’ve grown up but still
live by what they said 

come on now
why are you treating me like i’m the cold side of the bed
you can’t just ball up & shut me out
i’d rather be talking to you, right now
i think that would be a lovely memory to have of each other
instead of this bitterness and disappointment
that’s glowing all over your face
do you notice the sadness in my eyes
don’t take yourself away from me,
just please      
                                                                                   stay a little longer
but i know you won’t
because you don’t feel what i feel for you
and until you do
you’ll never know what love is 

when i wake up tomorrow
i don’t want to think about this anymore
no prolonged         dragging myself out of bed
i want to leap -       instead
tomorrow,       if i ever see it coming
i don’t want to force a smile
make the corners of my lips hurt as i greet you
i’d rather         feel         genuine
versus faking this happiness that meets you
i wonder about the changes i’ll make         tomorrow
because lord knows
                they’re not coming today 

I don’t write much
at least not like I used to
look what you’ve done 

Sigh, “But I love you”
I spat out between the tears
Don’t you understand
 

Stuck in the same place
where I was standing at start -
not saying enough. 

Inhale the words coming out of my mouth. Digest them with a hint of salt and pepper to give some taste to this conversation. I want to know you. You. Lover, sweet lover, the one that met me in the years before this common era. Before Christ, I knelt in front of you bearing my all. Wishing that you’d bless me in your sweet juices, that dripped from the sweat of my temple, down to the ramp of my bottom lips. I want you. All of you. Don’t be stingy, and don’t tease. I don’t want you to be easy, I want you to feel/fill all of me. Inhale. And exhale, you need to breathe. Take in everything that I’m saying, and I promise you won’t have any need to stray. You don’t need to look away, you can stare me in my eyes so I know that it’s real. I want to see love pour/pure flip summersaults and receive a perfect 10 in my world. Can you be my 10, more than a dime piece… Because you bring me to my knees. With the strength of three words. But you gotta listen to me. You gotta hear me. I’m begging for you. 

Don’t worry love. I’ll write you soon. I know things have been hard between us. Struggling day in, day out, fussing & fighting. In between the scratches on your back and the lip biting. There’s been a lot going on in both our worlds. Two young brown girls so we’re struggling against all the worlds temptations. I know, it’s been tiring for both of us, to get along lately. And I’m apologizing in advance for any mis(sed)communications that’s about to occur. But in the meantime, could you try to bear with me. Try to love me from a distance and know that this sadness won’t last forever. It’s just going to be a while. A long time coming, into a spirit of recognition and a person of deliverance from all life’s evils. I’m trying my hardest to get out of this ditch I’ve dug. I don’t want to stay down here too long. It’s getting dirty and I see you’re love is weaning. I see that it’s me you’re seeking. And I’m trying to get me back. Trying, trying. Please, don’t worry love. I’ll send you another love letter to keep your coming back soon.

I write poetry that’s made for the sleepy lover. The one that’s too broken to pick up the pieces so she’s not leaving her bed for the next 2weeks. Text messages ignored & phone calls left unanswered. She declines all forms of communication, deferring to voicemail. Blackmailed by a love that once was. She seeks for that taste of caffeine in every waking moment. Yet she’s drowning in the sheets of insomnia. My rhymes aren’t enough to wake her. My words can’t resuscitate that beating that once kept her warm at night & her pillow dry. If I could, I’d create for her a million dreams that will leave her wanting to awaken and able to walk with me in this life. But she doesn’t even know that her conscience understands that even Never Never Land gave way to the rising sun.

I can’t write anything
that will place you 
in this empty bed of mine.