One year later

Now you caught my heart for the evening. Kissed my cheek, moved in, you confuse things.
Should I just sit out or come harder? Help me find my way.

One year later, here we are. I'm yours.

I came harder.

him again...

he's like the light of my life and yet his words bring me down. it's always a constant battle with him; a push and pull and push again kind of thing. he makes it so clear to me. he lays it down. but, he's got me stressin'. i mean hard core stressin'. like i can't sleep at night. like it hurts so much to be here. like it's more than i can bare. like he's taking all i got. nothing for me. the red light is flashing because i'm running on E. it's complicated. he says he loves me no matter what. but, other times he likes to hate on me. pointin' out my flaws, sayin' he still loves me but he ain't got room for me. and i just wanna say "look muthafucka, take me as i am or leave me the fuck alone!" of course i never say that. i got to much respect for him to diss him like that.


I have a relationship with god, and it's a hectic one.

The Night

The lights were very dim,
your skin looked orange in the deep night shadows.
Your skin was everything to me:
it held all my dreams and desires.
I was ravenous that night.
I wanted to consume every part of you.
I wanted to empty you out
and fill you up with me.
i did.
I filled every secret part of you with every part of me.
We fit together.
Perfectly.
The night was deep.
The night was dark.
Yet, your light blinded me.
All shackles of humiliation or trepidation clanked to the cement under our toes.
We moved rhythmically against the cold tiles, cold green tiles.
We could have been caught.
They could have found us out that night.
But, God let them wait til the morning.
One night, the last night
the only night you were mine.

All that I am

If a metaphor could express how I feel right now, I guess I would say I feel fucked. Multiple times. No pleasure. No pain. Just numb. I feel numb. I am numb. I am not pleasure. I am not pain. I am numb. I am busy. I am slow. I am in a constant state of going nowhere. I am going everywhere. I am everywhere. I am nowhere. I am sacrificing. I am selfish. I am greedy. I am generous. I help to feel full. I give to take. I refrain to go ahead. I whisper under my breath like I am screaming. I live to die. I die to live. I am nothing. I am everything. I am dominant. I am subordinate. I am inferior. I am superior. I take her. I am taken by her. I feel her inside. I go inside. I breathe to exhale. I exhale to breathe. I eat to shit. I shit to eat. I walk to get there. I get there to walk back again. I write to erase. I erase to write again. I call to hang up. I hang up to call tomorrow. I leave to return. I return to leave this morning. I am. I am not. I am godly. I am evil. I am good. I am bad. I am all that exists in between. The only consistency exists in my love. It may move through, between, in, out, and all over, but I do love. I love.

mena's poem

she was a nice girl, a fine girl
nothing too special in her speech
nothing too special in her dress
she was just there.

her words we not particularly profound
nothing she said tugged at my heart
her words were not romantic, sex-crazed, deep
she preferred haiku and the funny.

and so when i passed her each day
none of her words came to mind
only that one poem on cherry pie.
cherry pie.

i saw her eating those cherry pies.
mouthfuls and bowlfuls of cherry pies.
i also saw the pasta, oily salami, porridge
and salad with slippery mounts of ranch white.

this whole time i criticized her
picked her apart! piece by piece because of her mundane disposition.
because she was pretty.
because i didn't think she belonged in a room of
deep and depraved poets
because nothing grabbed me about her.
and now cherry pies are knives and needles
and cherry pie poems are mirrors and roundabout reflections
spitting images of sickness and self-loathe and five minutes after you eat regurgitation
because she's not reaaaaaally sick, not doctor sick, but she is sick, because her soul is sick and all she wantedwas for me
to listen
and not just listen but to really read in between the lines of each fragment or phrase or stanza!
she was counting on me to be bright enough, poetic and deep enough to realize that cherry pies are NOT just cherry pies
and pretending to blend in, to be mundane, to be something normal and not extraordinary or special just meant that this one girl, this one thin, sad, squinty-eyed girl in my reading and writing poems course was more complex, and less obviously complicated than I could have ever
imagined.

She was more than I could have ever imagined.

mena.

My ambition

I remember my ambition as a young girl. I can taste it even now. All my thoughts, motivations, and plans were centered on achieving greatness. I was involved in every damn thing. From student council to special interest groups, I was there. And, I wasn't just there; I was a leader.

Time has gone by. I'm in college now. I'm working my ass off. I have a job. But, I also have all of these responsibilities. And these things crowd my mind and take up all of my time. Sometimes I question my purpose. But, I keep my ambition in check. It is there. It is my companion. Every time I feel like quitting or throwing in the towel, ambition reminds me that I must persist and persevere.

My path is not sketched in gold. My achievements must be solely won by myself, because nobody can fill my shoes or step into my clothes. Such burden it is, but a relief because I know I have a purpose to fulfill.

Even when it hurts to be here. Even when my mind is consumed by work, knowledge, and pressure to succeed. Even when my eyes hurt to stay open. My ambition kicks in. There is too much to gain for me not to give 150%.

The infinite quality of dreams

My great-grandmother has lived a long life.

It always seems like time is running out. We never have enough time for X, Y, and Z, because we are too occupied with A, B, and C. And, even at the end of her life, I don't know if she will ever get to those X's, Y's, and Z's.

My great-grandmother has done a lot with her life. She has traveled through the rural villages of Mexico, eaten in Greek cafes, and voyaged countless times back and forth from the Hawaiian Islands. She has traveled the globe. She has sailed the seas. She has driven in a Model T Ford and a modern-day Mercedes.

All these beautiful things. They often take a lifetime to come together. Even then, they might not be all of what you most secretly desire.

People want, and want right away. But, we can't always get those things right away. We want riches and fame in our lifetime. We want it tomorrow. We battle away hard-earned cash in hopes for tomorrow or next week.

But Brother, it's going to take longer than tomorrow to see the beauty. And Sister, it's going to take more than a dollar to taste it too. It's going to take a lifetime to get to that point.

And even when you draw your last breath, you might not get what you wanted 50 years ago.

You might get it later. All the fame you once desired can peep its head out in the form of glory. We might find your name in historical texts for the next 500 years. And, that necklace that you bought for $10 may be worth $149,450 in 100 years--a lucky find for your great-grand baby.

My great-grandmother may never see her X's, Y's, and Z's, but I just might. And my daughter just might. A dream, an idea, lives longer than we do. Some dreams last forever and can collectively melt into everyone's hopes and desires. And, someone, yes someone, might be around to enjoy it.

Figure it out

I am seriously lacking motivation. This cold has really got me in a slum. Usually the cold sting on my cheeks enlivens me. But, lately I'm just frigid. My body doesn't feel right. My mind doesn't feel right. The music isn't grabbing me like it should. It, life, just feels so heavy and pointless. Money is okay. I can't complain because I am eating. But, food doesn't taste at all like it did before. My bed doesn't make me feel like it once did. I can't fall asleep right when I hit the sheets. I just want to leave. But, I've made this commitment. A four year commitment. The thought of being here for 2+ years is driving me insane. I need something good to happen to me. Something to make me see what this is all worth. Of course I know the value of my education. But, it's not all about prestige. I want to meet new people. People who inspire me to be a better version of myself. The one and only thing that I can truly say has never disappointed me in the time I have been here is my girlfriend. She holds me down. She knows I'm not 100% happy. But, she's willing to stick by me until I figure this situation out. I need to figure this out.

On edge

I'm on edge right now. I didn't even know it til now. I couldn't remember the password to my voicemail. I slammed my hand against my dresser. My girlfriend couldn't believe it, and neither could I. I don't like this. Everything isn't cool. Nothing's flowing like I thought they would. This year is intense. I can't get well rested, even if I sleep for hours. I don't feel happy, even when I wake up to the most beautiful face each day. I'm tired. I'm worn out. My classes don't make me tingle. I rarely sing anymore. As far as poetry goes, I have written in so long. It's amazing I'm even writing right now. I just want to swim in ice cold water, so I can feel something until I can feel no more. That sounds more dreary and morbid than I meant for it to be. I am just so done. Done. I seriously just want to go away somewhere far, and return only when it feels right. This school business has got me on edge.

Snitches

Let me,
Tell you something.
They all snitches. Blonde. Blue. Short hair. Long hair. Fat. Skinny.
Believe me.

Death Wish

Never let yourself be dragged into the mainstream.

I live my life with this is mind. Always on the back-burner, rolling into a fiery boil, or just simmering to a faint hiss. Mainstream. Two syllable death wish. Once it starts it's almost impossible to stop. Like leprosy, it eats away at you. First, your clothes change. Then your taste changes. Chipping away at the pocket change and lint in your life. Until, its gaping mouth swallows what you call dreams. Mainstream takes dreams.

Tired, Hungry, and full of Homework

I am so tired. During breaks, I forget about all the essays, readings, and homework assignments professors throw at me. At least I know my brain is working. I'm just so tired. It's so late. I can't believe I ate almost six hours ago. It's no wonder that my stomach is growling. :(

the number one question

there comes a time in every man's life when he decides what is most important to him. life is arranged in a way where we are expected to love and care for everyone. but, not everyone adheres to that kind of thinking. people betray you. they leave you. hurt you. and then you have to ask yourself what the point of it all is.

some people feel like their purpose is simply to please everyone around them. they give and give and sacrifice their own happiness for someone else. but, what are you supposed to do when you can't seem to please anyone. not a single human being. if your entire life is built on that notion, life ends when you fail to complete what was asked of you. some take their lives.

some people feel like their purpose in life is to seek recognition. i am all to familiar with this concept. the pressure to succeed is like a gun to your head. it's like a do or die situation. sometimes we get lucky and we draw blanks. but, the anticipation of that trigger is enough to drive you mad. growing up we are designed to do the right thing. go to school. go to college. get married. father and mother kids. create a happy household. do what's right not for your own personal gains but for the betterment of your loved ones. even the holy scriptures tell the same kind of stories. the pressure to do well in order to be recognized or appreciated can drive you mad. succeeding just to succeed. what if you never receive that recognition? some take their lives.

the pressure is thick my brothers. they want us to be what we aren't destined to be. i say let's just do whatever we want to do and hope for the best. accountability still holds a grip on you, so don't go too wild. live for your own happiness. live with all of us in mind. don't hurt me. and i won't hurt you. we will just live like men used to live. for the sake of living.

race v sexuality

i'm so busy lately that i rarely have time to gather my thoughts and reflect appropriately. some background for you: i have been taking a women's sexuality course. it's been interesting and mostly biologically focused, but it has been all-in-all pretty swell. however, i've been thinking about the differences between the sexuality of a white woman and that of women of color. i have absolutely zero experience or true insight into the sexuality of white women, but for some reason i believe a difference might exist. and, i don't mean in a biological sense. purely cultural. is there any truth in this? i honestly don't know. i'll post something up if i find anything supporting or refuting my argument.

The Two

Today was a good day. I spent time with my best friend and my girlfriend. Best of both worlds :). It's so nice that I have that balance in my life. I'm glad they both understand their importance in my life.

:(

I'm acting ridiculous. Mainly because I don't know how else to express myself. I just want to say this: I wish it would've just been us tonight. I wish we could have gone to dinner like I had hoped. I wish that you would have wanted the same.

Grey Tension

These walls are closing in on us. I can't help but feel this way. I can't seem to say or do the right things. Or maybe I do, but your eyes aren't kind. I wish for you. I wish you all the happiness in the world. I wish to be the one to bring you happiness. But, it's getting harder every day. Brick walls. Grey tension in the cracks.

Lesson Number 1

I've decided to post a lesson of the day :)

Lesson of the Day: Whatever I do in the future, I must be active. I have to interact with people, talk to people, educate people, and do hands-on work. Sitting at a desk does not cut it for me. You couldn't pay me enough to sit in a desk all day. :)

Thoughts on Day 2

A new day. Day number two, and I'm feeling good. I woke up earlier than necessary, ate a little breakfast, and made my way to the library. It's nice to get things started bright and early. I'll most likely conk out tonight. That sounds good. Real good. Yesterday wasn't a bad day. But, today feels right. Starting a new job and class can be stressful. I won't lie, I probably took out some of my anxiety on my girlfriend. That's never a smart thing to do. But, I'm reminded of how shitty that feels, and I don't want to get dirty. It's important to keep the vibes high and real. To appreciate what we have when we have it. I have a lot. A great mom at home. A great school to call my Alma mater. A comfortable room to call home. A wonderful and sweet girlfriend to call my own. And loving friends that keep me laughing and smiling. It's all good in this hood.

Things on my mind? As you can see, all of this is just rambling going on in my head. But, I do have something to talk about. I'm wondering what I will do for Christmas. Will I go back to Cali? Will I stay in Massachusetts or possibly Connecticut? Or will I see my father?

Home? I love seeing my family. I miss them already. But, not everybody is going to be home for the holidays. Should I even go that far for just a few days?

MA or CT? My girlie or my bestie? I hate being away from them. It would be nice to be here. But, I don't want to inconvenience their families.

Father? Well, seeing as he won't even return my calls, it seems less than likely that I will fly there for the holidays. Disappointing. But, this just shows me that he can never say I didn't try. I try all the time. Is he my number one priority? No. But, I think of him everyday. And, it's a shitty feeling to doubt whether we have reciprocal sentiments.

Idk. I have to figure it out. I kind of want to go to Hawai'i. Let me check the prices.

Peace.

Never Forget to Fall

I forget.
It's weird how I forget all the little things that I used to love about you. As time has gone by and new relationships have come into play, I forget about you more and more. And, I know we both said that we would never forget about each other (no matter what), but I don't remember the many things that made me fall in love over and over again.
I think we force ourselves to forget because remembering can be so painful.
If we only focused on the good moments, we, as people, would never separate.

After forgetting twice before, I don't want to have to forget anymore. I love you, the woman I sleep with each and every night, my partner, my soul-mate. I don't want you to be forgettable. I love you. I don't want to be in that place and space where it is too painful to remember why I love you and why I continuously fall deeper and deeper in love with you. Because I do. I fall and I fall and I fall.

And you say I'm not alone. You say you're falling too.

Let's never forget.
Please :)

Update to a new school year

So it begins. A new year. A new life. A new experience. I'm happy for all the newness. I'm happy for all the good and bad things that will come. I'm especially excited to learn more life lessons this school year. I'm not going to let the pressure to succeed deter me from achieving my goals; rather, I will let it fuel me til I reach that place and space I call success.

I may not be into the party scene like many of my fellow colleagues. I may not get shit-faced every Thursday and Friday night. I may not sleep around and get sexual with whoever whenever. But, my experience is unique to me. I am hard-working, determined, focused, loving, committed, and I care about how I present myself. If I want to do the things I set out to do, I must stay focused and keep my eye on the prize. There are too many girls at my school who don't use their educational experience to its fullness because they are sitting on trust funds. God did not grant me that path. I must work for everything I want and need in this life. I intend to do this. I intend to succeed and blow everyone out of the water.

D

Rescue Mission

It's hard to imagine that just 3 months ago, maybe 4, I was lying in bed with you. We were reminiscing and regretting at the same time. We knew it was going to be tough. We knew we would have a deep longing to have things as they once were, how it was in that bed. But, we didn't know the extent of this pain. And now, when I feel down-hearted and depressed, a light shines down on me, throwing a life-raft to rescue me from being without you. One week.

The Purpose

Time is running on and on and on.

It's hard for anyone to keep up.

These are all cycles.

Stairs

Running up and down and even sideways.

No start

No end

Just infinite.

You are simplicity and complexity, blue and pink, purple stain on white roses, ink that seeps 100 sheets deep.

I dream

I have dreams for us. I dream of happiness and success. I dream of the very same for you. I dream of waking up to you in the morning. I dream of whispering good night to you in the indigo night. I dream of walking down the street to my own song. I dream of art galleries and graffiti on subway trains. I dream of operas and underground joints. I dream paradoxical dreams. I dream of everything and nothing. I dream of villas near the ocean with dark blue pools to quench my skin. I dream of microscopic huts in villages with no name. I dream of sophistication and simplicity. I dream of riches and modesty. I dream of luxury cars and bicycles. I dream, I dream, I dream. I dream of ambitious people making a difference. I dream of helpless people waiting for me to make a difference. I dream of me standing on the edge of space and time, like looking 1oo feet down into the crystal clear deep blue before I jump. I dream of jumping. I dream of the water hitting me like one thousand pins, simply to feel alive. I dream of floating in the blue, letting its tug and currents drift me away to somewhere I have not seen or imagined. I dream of it leading me to you.

Rescue me...please?

Ferocious Fiends

I have a history of addiction that runs through my family...on both sides. It makes me wonder if I have it in me to be a fiend. If it hasn't happened yet, will it ever happen?

Get Yo Drank On--maybe?

I don't drink. One day, a year and a half from now, I may consider sampling some of these little jobbies. So many to choose from. Poisonous, really.

One day I will accompany you as you pick one of these out

Amy Winehouse

This woman is a "bad girl." I like.

Updates

So, I'm not at my regular workspace. I've decided to use my home desktop because the sound system is 1,000,000 times bigger and better than my laptop. Things are going well. Tomorrow should be fun. I am meeting Farah at a restaurant for dunch (dinner/lunch). I miss her a lot. I hope she knows just how much. Then, on Thursday the fam and I are heading to San Francisco. A grand total of 4 peeps in mom's mini SUV. That is a full car to me. I usually get the back seat to myself. Maybe I'll get to sit in the front with mom. I am excited for the mini vacation with my mom. I haven't really been on a vacation with her. It's really sad. The people that most deserve time off usually don't get it. So we will be there for close to a week. Then we will stop by another city to visit some of my family. After this trip, I have to really buckle down to get myself completely ready to go back to school. I'll meet with Terri. It's always a blast with her. I am usually at a loss for words because she is so stunning. But, the one thing I am most looking forward to in these next two weeks is going back to MA. I miss my girlfriend so much. She's incredible. Beautiful. Lovely. Sweet. And, she's a firecracker which makes things way more exciting. She brightens my world. So, that is that. I'll update this blog if anything else should pop up.

Peace.

Michelle

Michelle, my sister, my first lady, do you!
Don't let them haters make you think you don't deserve the best.
If you got the means to have a good time, go ahead and do it!
You are a woman. A Black woman. A woman whose people slaved and suffered through centuries of racism and hate.
You are educated. Determined. Beautiful. Your worth is not measured through that of your man's. You are your own woman. A single entity floating through this universe. You are a queen. Every woman is a queen. Time that we all got on your train and start acting like we are.

Knowing

I don't always know everything. I like to think that I know a lot, especially for my age, but in all honesty, I don't know anything. There are certain things that can only be learned with time. I have so much time left to be enlightened. Yet, there is something nagging at me.

I am an open vessel. I'm waiting for people to come in and out of my life. That's all that life is. A series of ins and outs. Some people stay longer than others, but eventually we are left by ourselves. And, it almost makes you wonder if it's even worth it.

Reflection after it's all said and done:

I know we argue a lot. I know I push you and pressure you sometimes. I know you like to keep things to yourself. But, I also know how beautiful our love is. I know that I cannot live without you. I know that I am choosing to not live without you. I love you. You are the queen. You are my queen.

Stitched

This fight is different from past fights.
We almost ended this one, for good.
I got my most sad this time
and I almost lost my heart this time.
But, we quickly saw the pieces dropping before us
almost in liquid form, unable to be picked up,
so we used our hearts as rags to soak up our tears--
my tears.
I cried. The first to cry and the first to get upset.
And untainted you remained, you are untouchable.
Hating to just give up on the situation, I loosely stitched my lips
closed, hoping to feel closer to you.
But, that didn't work. I stayed quiet and pleasant,
pretending to ignore the very thing that upset me in the first place:
negligence.
And so I write, because writing is the one
place in space and the only space in time
where I know I am fully heard.

6 days

I am officially counting down the time. Six more days, actually less, and I will be reunited with my family. I am so happy. Well, technically I am with my family, but I will be with my immediate family! Yes! It's been two months since I've seen them. That wouldn't be so bad if it was the school year, BUT it's SUMMER! Ay yay yay! I miss my mom so much. She is such a wonderful parent, and I am so glad I will see her again! :D

Rap

It's been two months and my mind is itching
Missing you has caused a lot of tears and sniffling
Thoughts and memories tend to jumble
I'm on edge like Rocky when he starts to rumble
I know you ain't sneakin' and snoopin' like Tiger
Thousand miles away just got me so tired
Waitin' to pounce at any little flaw
Yet I pull myself back before I let me fall
You know you're my boo, my babe, and my bride
The only chick I'd want to be my ride or die
All the B.S. and fights, dismiss
At the end of the day, I only want you Miss

Part 2: Protecting the Cocoon

I've left academia four times, total. The cocoon always waiting for my return. The longest I've been gone is now. Close to two months gone, and I long to be back. I'm not secure, I'm always antsy. Always on edge. I sit on edge. I feel exposed. I'm naked in this world. Clothes dissolve and their remnants run down my bare flesh. In reality, I am always clothed. I don't sleep naked at night. Prepared. I consider myself in a constant state of preparation. A just in case scenario played over and over in my head. Under my pillow you will almost always find a small collapsable knife. Paranoia? No. Preparation. Unsheltered now, I must build a fort of protection. Too much to live for. Academia did a good job of protecting me, but it also showed how rough and ruthless the world can really be. 3,000 women, and according to statistics, a third of them will be sexually assaulted, brutalized, and beaten. Hard for me to believe. If you told me this a year ago, I would have told you it could never be me. They always say that: That could never happen to me. Anyone but me. But if not me, then who?

See, I realize that at any moment I could be attacked. My whole life can fall apart. Things fall apart. All the time. One day you're cuddled into a cocoon with your lover, and the next day your cocoon could be slashed and destroyed. Not every woman, or even person, thinks this way. My senses are heightened. I suspect before a crime is meditated. I protect in advance. I know what they are thinking before a perpetrator has even caught glance of me.

This may indeed sound dreary. I mainly get this way when riding on the bus, alone, or walking in crowded places, alone. Having a detective-like mind, thanks to sociology, I observe and pick up on things. The other day when riding on the bus, a young White female sat with her baby girl at the front of the vehicle. A Black man dressed in white boarded the bus. He looked confused, unsure if he was on the right bus. The young woman thought he might be short on change, so she offered to supplement the $1.50 bus ticket. He said "No thank you." He had enough. The Black man sat perpendicular to the woman and her child. The Black man seemed very impressed by the young White woman's generosity. Before he sat, she told him not to worry, her baby hardly ever cried. They began to engage in a conversation. I sat quietly near the middle of the bus. I heard everything. They talked about where they were going. Somehow they began to talk about drinking. She said she was too young to drink. I guessed at her age...maybe 19. He said she must have had her baby girl at a very young age. She told the man her baby's name. He asked about the baby's father, which she responded by saying her committed a stupid crime, I believe robbery, which landed him in prison. All of this, in a matter of 5 minutes. She, like I. probably sensed that the man was harmless. Yet, what about the 20 other people on the bus. If I could pick up on everything, what about someone who was used to using this kind of information to his/her advantage. Just from what she said, I could form her profile. By the look f her baby's face, muddied on the cheeks, she is low-income. Riding the bus can either mean one of two things, a) you don't have a car or b) your car is temporarily inaccessible. Thus, she does not come from much money. Her boyfriend is in jail. She says he maintains a relationship with his daughter, which most likely means she has not moved onto a new beau. She is alone. Manless in her home. She is probably staying with her mother, who most likely works long shifts to contribute to her daughter's untimely pregnancy. She is probably fatherless. And if she does have a father, he is probably shitty. Women with positive father figures don't usually end up with criminals. It is a cycle. She has just given her whole life story to a stranger(s), which suggests she is open, and very naive. Poor, White, single, young, naive, bus-riding mother. A woman who could be easily taken advantage of.

Five years down the line. A tragedy will happen. Either to her or to her daughter. And, she'll be asking why. Why me? How could this possibly happen to me? She will not remember spilling her guts on route 71. She won't remember, so she won't regret. It won't be her fault. But, she could have protected her cocoon by refraining from those conversations.

I used to be like her. We, in the same age group, are very different now. I will not tell my story to strangers. Never disclose information like where I live, what I do, who I am, to anyone I do not know. It's a part of protecting the cocoon.

Removed from the cocoon I call academia, I know the risks. I know how much I love and who I love. How I must protect my life and those around me at all costs.

1 out of every 3, is it? If by chance I am the one, I refuse to react blindly and unaware. I am aware. I know people, low-life, scum of the earth people, are waiting. They are waiting to prey upon a young, naive, and senseless woman. I may be young, but I am not naive and I am definitely not senseless.

Part 1: A Cocoon

I've come to a realization. At college, deeply nestled into the cocoon I'd like to call academia, I am safe. All the problems in the world sit before me on pages--essay after essay scrutinizing reality, hereby showing reality in a less than brilliant light. But, only on pages. Just words, intangible, almost non-existent in academia. Racial disparities, homophobic tragedies, misogynistic downfalls written line after line: intersectionality more present than ever before. Now the world looks different. I sit on my blue striped twin bed looking outside. The trees are bare. The grass browned and splotchy. But, nothing can touch me. Untouchable. The world passes us all by. 3,000 girls and a few hundred professors, all untouchable. We're safe in here. Always another girl adjacent to me, and to her another girl's whispers can be surprisingly understood. A cocoon.

this world is too much for me.
i'm going to be just like him.
i already am like him.
forget everything i have ever done to disprove it.
can't deny it.
why fight it.

Two birds of a feather

Never know what you feel because you never let me see you for who you really are. Fuck. I'm the same way.

hey hey hey hey

Shocked.
Sadness pervades.
Then,
I
don't
give
a
fuck.
That's right.
Jay-Z
moments

I know what they mean

No matter who they are
and
how much they mean to you,
never expect too much
never expect unconditional
love
never expect things to change
or
for you to mean anything to them.
Trust.

I'd like to think

I'd like to think I care about the dog lost in the woods, the students picketing around the block, etc.

But,

right now
yeah

right now

not so much.

Director

It's one of those times man. One of those times.
Bite my tongue. Hold my breath. Exit. Stage left.

20

I want you to know that I love you.
Even though you can't understand,
it's okay.
Because,
I love you.

Heartbroken

The only way I can explain how I feel:
Heartbroken.

It goes like this:

Corners.
Pipe.
Ice.
Fight.
Door.
Gone.
You.

Me.
Love.
Come back.
Please.

The 2 Princesses

Why do I even fuss?
Because I love you so much.
And I believe in our fairytale.

WIMP

You make me out for a wimp
And, I feel like one.
Just a sucker.
A poor lonely sucker
who's trying to hold onto the one good thing in her life.
you.

Illusions

Why can't you pretend with me like you pretend with them?
I like when you're happy and when you are excited about life.
But, I rarely see that anymore.
I'm beginning to think you were lying when you said I make you happy.
If I make you happy, shouldn't I see your happiness.
Why do they get to see that you are happy
when I know that they don't make you happy.
Unless this has been just a lie. And maybe I'm the one
suffering from these illusions.
Maybe it's all inverted
and backwards
and I'm not the one.

Paranoia

I'd always wonder if you'd call me first.
I never let you.
I'm too afraid of rejection.
I'm too afraid that you won't call me first.
So, I text you first, and if that doesn't work
I call you first
To remind you that you said you'd call.
And you never call,
Because I called,
and it would be pointless for you to call when I put you on the line,
first.
I'd always wonder if you'd call me
first.
Maybe this time, I will wait.

Visions

It's a strange predicament when I see her in me.
It would've been a lovely sight to see, if
I still loved her.
But nowadays, I just gag, and taste the
bitter sour sweetness
that climbs up my innards and rests on my tongue.
It's a strange and rather nauseating predicament.

If you love me

Do you love me?
Because, I love you.
If you love me, why do you push me into the sea?
I'm already blue.
I'm already drowning.
If you love me.
If you love me.
Why can't you just call me.
Why can't you reach out to me.
Before
we
are forced to say
I'm sorry.

Time-line

It's only been a tiny dent in this time-line.
We've only just begun.
And it's hard.
It's hard because we don't talk.
We open our mouths and recite a pre-made dialogue
from yesterday, from last week.
And we never really listen.
It's only been a tiny, minuscule dent in our time-line,
and you're already drifting away from me.

I Can Never

I can never understand why you won't just talk to me.
Why it's so hard for you to tell me of your demons.
Why you lash out at me for wanting to help you.
Why you resent me for loving you.
I can never understand.

The Displacement of Power

Do you ever get tired?

What do you mean?

I mean, does sitting on your high horse ever get tiring?

Huh?

Because I, myself, get tired of looking up at you.

Reflection on a morning chat

Blah dee blah
dee blah
blah
blah.
That's what you hear from me when I take special interest
in you.
away
away
away
I shall go.

What she told me

I don't want you to be a poet. Poets are oftentimes too complex. Striving to understand the world in her own eyes, but never making sense of what's in her heart. I don't want that for you.

Don't be a poet.

Midnight's Cellular Rendez-Vous

This feeling is like unraveled toilet paper streamed across the bathroom floor.
Gathering, it keeps gathering hair, and dust, and specks of last night's visitor.
It trails and trails in and out and in and out, tearing at every stitch, every dotted and slotted break in the line. But, it never breaks completely. It's half torn, half damaged, half dirtied.
But, it only takes one smudge, one imperfection, to insert that desire in you to tear it all away.

Have you ever loved?

A question, in it's simplest form, one answer, one word
Either
Yes or
No.
So they ask me
Have you ever loved?
And I think
And
I pause
And I retrace pain and pleasure
From long nights on the phone
Or waiting by one
at least.
I think of when I used to feel
loved
and
cared for.
I think of when I used to feel
down
and
discarded by
you.
And, all of a sudden this simple question
this simple four-worded question
with a simple mark of questioning
that only requires either
a yes
or a no
has turned into
586+ questions
with no answers
with loops that zig in
zig out
then zip through pink flesh
of heart or mind or e-
-ven pus-
-sy
Zig in the lies
And zig out the hopeless. lonely. nights.
Memories long gone, dug up when you call me.
Monday night. 1am. Needing me...as usual.
to where I don't even know what I was asked anymore.
Then, you remind me.
Have you ever loved?
No.
But, I have.

Spectrum

Orange
Blue
Purple
Yellow fields in my mind.

I'm the orange and the blue

You?
Purple and yellow.

I like to fit, nestled in you.

In you.
In you.
In you.

Impatience

I can be really impatient sometimes. That is one of my flaws. I can be patient with many things, many situations...and then, really impatient with others. I wish I had enough peace of mind to not be so impatient or aggravated. I get aggravated rather easily. I've never been considered angry or violent, because I am really not, but I get so bugged and irked by people. Personally, I wish I didn't give a damn sometimes. But, it's just not in my nature to be indifferent. My greatest strength and weakness is that I care too much. I care about people, how they feel, and I am especially careful of how I interact with people. One slip of the tongue can cause devastating effects. But, I keep my tongue to myself. I long to just scream at the top of my lungs how I feel, but I'll settle for a mere conversation. But, this conversation has yet to occur. And, it's been an hour and a half. I'm waiting and waiting. But, I don't know if the call will come through. Sometimes I get so impatient that I will make the first move. I'll pick up the phone and dial the digits. But, it's time for me to be patient, even if it means being impatiently patient. If I get the call, my nerves will settle. Even if I get the call two hours later, I will be okay. But, if I don't get that call, I don't know how I will react. It takes a lot for this impatient gal to sit here and wait. And, now the phone just rang.

I just don't know

I keep being pulled into this spinning gyre of certainty and uncertainty. I know I am safe with my girlfriend. I know she will hold me down. But, it's the others...all the others that just fill me with such uncertainty. The others tell me I'm not good enough. The others always have something to say that just breaks me down and leaves me confused. And, I know I'm not a bad person. I try my hardest. I give my best. But, I don't like to play with uncertainty. Why would I invest my love and my energy into uncertainty? Why would I put myself in a position that could hurt me?

I don't remember...

Today in my poetry class we were assigned to do a creative writing assignment in the last fifteen minutes of class. We began with "I don't remember." It was weird to begin the prompt that way because the only thought that penetrated my mind was of my father, well at least the absence of him. Being at Smith has proved to be a time of epiphanies and realization. I've realized things about my own life, the lives of people close to me, and life in general. I never thought I was one to suppress deep feelings of resentment toward my father. I don't know why I feel so much anger toward him at times. I don't know why I act non-empathetic toward him. My frustration began after I received an insulting and awkward phone call from him. Since then, I have constructed these blockades around my heart, hoping he won't penetrate its walls. I have tried for the past four years to rekindle my relationship with him. I even went as far as spending two weeks with him this summer. But, like always, things didn't stay perfectly in tact. My stepmother complained about him, and he complained not only about her, but about everything else, including his own childhood. And, that's what gets me. He always talks and talks and talks about how unloved he felt as a child. But, you know what? He did the same thing to me. He may have not physically abused me, but he neglected me. I'm not saying that I wish he would've been around. I'm simply stating that he repeated the same vicious cycle he experienced as a young boy. And, I know for a fact that my grandmother loved him. She would have done anything for her family. So, when he insults my grandparents, I have no choice but to be discontent and vexed. He didn't make it easy. I don't blame him for getting into trouble as a young kid. But, I do believe he should take full responsibility for his actions as an adult. If he didn't want to grow up, he shouldn't have been in a sexual relationship with my mother. Unprotected sex= chance of a pregnancy. Sometimes I just feel like I was an inconvenience to him. Sometimes I feel like he almost resented my mom and me for robbing him of his "bachelor" years. But, then again, life is about accountability! If you bring a baby into this world, you better take care of her! I could never abandon my spouse and our baby. I could never lie to her. I could never deceive them. I could never cheat on her. I could never not take care of my family. So, when I wrote the prompt titled "I don't remember," I wrote about the absence of my father during some of the most pivotal years of my life.

D

To be in love

To be in love makes one do strange things they would otherwise not do. I learned this a long time ago when I first fell in love. Looking back, I sometimes don't like to claim that I was ever in love. But, I know I was. If I didn't love her, I wouldn't have put up with all the things I did.

But, now I am happily involved in a romance that is beautiful in every way possible. And, instead of being the only one to feel so entrenched and enthralled in love, I know my partner is experiencing those same feelings. It makes me happy, it makes me smile one of those simple smiles of complete fondness. She cares. She cares. SHE CARES!...about me, about my feelings, about my day. She cares if I eat. She cares if I cry. She cares if I spend time with my buddies. She cares if I call my sister on her birthday. She cares that I have a relationship with my dad. She cares about the status of my room...AKA if it is clean and organized.

What does this tell me? She loves me. And, while I may not express my love in the same exact way, I know she knows I love her. Perhaps I don't encourage her to clean her room...then again, her room is always clean lol. But, I do make sure she eats. I do care that she is warm before leaving to go to class. I do make sure she is happy. I care about her feelings. I care about her mood. I care about her relationship with her family and friends. Why? Because, that is what you feel when you truly love someone.

D

Valentine's

This time last year, my life was totally different.

Short and Sweet

The passing of time feels like forever without you. I want to be with you. Be near you. Hear you. But, time impedes my desire. And then, I feel down.

The Day After Tomorrow...

I will be heading to Smith College! Woo hoo! I am now allowing myself to get really excited! The early mornings, strolls to and from class, long hours in the library, dinner and brunch with my Bridgees, and long nights with my girl...Ahhhhh, sounds like heaven to me!

I kind of wish I was coming back earlier in the day. But hey, that's okay! At least I am coming back, right?

I am really going to miss my family, especially my mommy. :(

But, I am going to be busy with my studies and my buddies! Whoop whoop, that rhymed yo!

Peace out!

D

Three More Days

So, I have three days til I am back at Smith. I am rather excited. I miss my life at Smith. Smith is where the majority of my time is spent. I have grown accustomed to the routine, work, friends, and overall life I have built for myself in college.

Because I have grown so used to Smith, it has made being home rather hard. I love my family and close friends, but it's not the same. I feel like I could have spent the maximum of two weeks here at home and accomplished the same thing. Next winter, I would like to plan out what I am going in advance so I don't have big chunks of useless time.

The pro of staying longer is that I was able to spend time. I did like seeing my mom throughout the day. She means the world to me. But, as much as I love her, I feel like I should be off on my own. I have waited for this moment of complete independence for a long time now.

Plus, I miss my Massi. She's become an important and big part of my life. It's amazing how close we've gotten over the past few weeks. It's been a relatively short time that we've been together, but we have this connection that is really powerful. So, I can't wait to get back to her. I want to embrace every inch of her.

I also can't wait to see my buddies. I miss Iesha, Yanil, Neesha, Imani, Melissa, Johanna, Mei, Seata, Catherine, Katheryne, Arlene, Sasha, Imogene, Keji, and everyone else. I miss seeing my friends around campus. We are so tight, it's pretty crazy. I miss getting kissed on the cheek by EVERYONE lol. And, I miss giving kisses on the cheek. Damn, summer is going to be so hard.

Anyway, three more days! I can't wait!

D

Sons

I don't know why, but I am kind of upset. She asked me why I don't want boys for sons. She said I was being sexist.

Maybe I am upset because she may be revealing some kind of truth. Maybe I am sexist. Maybe I really do dislike men. I don't dislike all men. But, my general impression of most men is not one of great admiration.

I don't hate men. In fact, if society's perception of men didn't hold any truth, then maybe I would like men. Definitely not in a sexual way. But, maybe my impression of men would be more favorable.

Talking about this has released a lot of emotions, emotions I haven't felt in a long time. And maybe I lied, maybe this does have to do with my dad. Maybe my relationship with him has made me resent most men. Just like he didn't deserve my mom, maybe I feel men don't deserve most women.

But, I know I can raise a good man. I could. I would love my babies regardless of their sex. I guess in a way, I am upset because I don't want to relate me having kids with my own experience with men.

My Voice

My words are melting into yours. Sometimes when I write things or say things, I hear your voice. Only last night did I feel what I was writing embodied my own voice. I was writing about you, about your qualities. And yet I heard the coolness and calmness of Dominique. No longer your happy and cheerful voice. Trust me, I love your voice. But, my voice is especially important to me as a writer. I need my own voice. So glad am I that I got it back.

But, this isn't the first time that this has happened. I hear their voices too. My exes. It's strange, very strange. It usually happens when I am talking to a current girlfriend. I will say something to her, and what I hear isn't me, it's the one from before. I feel violated in a way, like my soul is being penetrated by their existence. The me is no longer me, it's me and her and her and her. Four of us in me, using my voice. I want to be the antithesis of certain qualities they possessed. To block out those qualities, blocks our their presence in my mind. That's all I want.

When I talk to you, I want to talk through me. I want you to hear me. I want to hear me as I am talking or writing to you.

This is me.

Miss Magician

Magic birthed when you touch me
Swirl your wand around my heart
Breathing, feeding into you
And I want nothing more
Than to be captivated
and held captive by you.

Reflection on January 11th

It's crazy to think about what could have been. Three years ago today, I decided to pursue a relationship with another woman for the first time. It was scary. I was nervous. I was embarrassed in a way. I was unsure. But, I took that risk and I started the beginning of a very rocky relationship.

For one, I didn't know her. I didn't know about her past or her plans in the future--things I normally find important. But, I was young and I didn't think about those things. From the beginning, she used intimidation and manipulation to draw me in. I suppose she never thought she could get me without it. But, what was just a fling turned into something bigger than I would have ever expected. I fell in love with her. And, it took me a long while to fall completely out of love.

We were together for almost a year and a half. Drama, love, drama, love, and more drama--that's what our love was. I am definitely glad I grew into a stronger and wiser woman after than experience. It took so much strength, strength I didn't think I had, to get out of that relationship.

And so, almost two years later, I am here. I am happy. I love myself. And I feel loved by others.

<3

Recap and Reflection

Recap. We ended a while ago. Over a month ago, officially. Believe it or not, it was hard to say good-bye. It was even harder when I realized we had given up. Much harder when I realized I was the one doing most of the giving up. But, I walked away. It was too painful to stay. It was too complicated one might say.

A part of it was easy though. I didn't have to see you each day. You didn't have to see me moving on. I could go on. I could keep up the studies. I could keep up my social life. Not compromising anything. It was the same. Except, I felt liberated. Not having to worry if I was being a good partner to you. Not having to struggle time and time again to make things work when I knew they were falling apart.

Things Fall Apart ...when one person stops trying, stops wanting. Perhaps it was me. Or maybe it was you, too.

Since then, my life has been great. It was always great. I have been blessed, fortunate. Good friends, a family who loves me. But, for a while I was sad. I was sad because I felt terrible for being happy, for putting myself first. Selfish. Greedy. Unworthy.

But, my attitude shifted. And, I was genuinely 100% happy. I am happy. Moved on, yes. Quickly? Maybe so. But, you only live once. You only get one life to live. One chance to live to the fullest. You only get one go at it.