She told me,
You are a poet.
I told her,
You are the poetry,
I am a witness
-my testimonial
Nov 29, 2018
Nov 29, 2018 at 4:34 PM UTC
Without me, there would be
No souls in this house.
Only the carcass of the person
You used to be.
I’m starting to get lonely.
Nov 13, 2018
Nov 13, 2018 at 5:16 PM UTC
Even though she is the sun,
She gives you life,
Warms your skin to the touch,
Remember why there is the moon.
Too much heat and you will burn.
Too much darkness and you’ll get lost.
The World stops spinning for no one,
Learn from her and see
Life is a tightrope walk between comfort and gravity.
Nov 13, 2018
Nov 13, 2018 at 5:15 PM UTC
When we approached the intersection
Contaminated with political signs,
Yes on 1, No on 1. I asked,
“What did you vote for, daddy?”
We waited an hour in line for the elevator
Inside the crowded Empire State Building.
It was our turn but you said,
“We aren’t going in there with them.”
I had just received my diploma
And was floating on the high of achievement.
She put her arm around me and you said,
“Stop being so queer.”
My heart is broken
And I stay locked away for days
You knock on my door and ask,
“What’s wrong?”
I am not going to tell you what’s wrong
When I grew up hearing from your lips
That I am what’s wrong.
He doesn’t need that extra burden.
I will carry the memories of
Your vote against gay marriage,
The two men holding hands in the elevator,
The words that made my diploma a dagger.
Nov 13, 2018
Nov 13, 2018 at 5:14 PM UTC
As a duet, my mom and alarm clock yell to get up.
Half asleep, I nearly fall asleep while brushing my teeth.
I choose my outfit, maybe I’ll dress up today.
I run out to the bus as it screeches to a stop on the curb.
My friends are leaned against their lockers.
I stare at the clock all of Algebra.
Pizza for lunch.
I die of boredom as the school day comes to an end.
Gunshots and screams full the air as they tell me something’s wrong.
In shock, I nearly faint while people shush us through their teeth.
I choose where to hide, maybe the teachers desk will work as a blockade.
The gunshots subside, the shooter has left the building.
My friends lie dead on the hallway floor.
I stare at the puddles of red that stain the tiles.
Cries of grief.
How did I not die?
If I had known my school would become a battleground
I would have invested in a bulletproof vest to keep under my desk
Just in case the lockdown drill doesn’t work.
Are pencils to erasers
As guns are to bullets?
Nov 2, 2018
Nov 2, 2018 at 2:29 PM UTC
Wooden walls that form around my bed,
Laughing at something my roommate said
I see way too many faces in the day;
They're all the same, nothing changed from yesterday.
These paths they've kissed my feet.
We weren't allowed to cross the street.
We joke about it being a jail,
But to be honest I wouldn't pay that bail
It gets old,
But wouldn't trade it for gold.
I know that these people, they love me.
But out of everyone, baby
You cooked me up this recipe
To believe in destiny.
Winter's always that coldest up North.
Walking outside was always a force.
Your hand was the only warmth that I wanna feel.
Coming back from spring break, that feeling was unreal.
The springtime came and the rain fell.
We know our hearts, they were parallel.
Our love's on track for the end.
Teachers knew we were more than friends.
It gets old,
But wouldn't trade it for gold.
I know that these people, they love me.
But out of everyone, baby
You cooked me up this recipe
To believe in destiny.
Now we're eighteen and out of here.
Nov 2, 2018
Nov 2, 2018 at 2:29 PM UTC
I have these moments of epiphany.
It is while I watch myself
Wake up and not kiss the soil.
The days I don’t remember
What color the sky was
Or how I treated my mother.
Each time I fly and I realize
There is nothing more breathtaking
Then seeing her from above.
Powerful, Resilient, Art, Oppressed, Female.
That is why I fall in love with the Earth,
She reminds me of all the women I’ve ever loved
That I do not deserve.
Nov 1, 2018
Nov 1, 2018 at 9:22 PM UTC
By now you know I’ve moved on from your ways;
Eaten by your cruelty, my soul is gone;
A tear is shed by many night and day;
The extent that you’ve hurt us is far too long.
A flame holds it’s wick when a strong wind blows;
Just air it holds onto to feed its life;
Of all things here, it’s the only thing that glows;
Some are burned by the flame, pain like a knife.
However, it’s gone eventually.
Give or take time, when the wax does melt,
Races are then finished essentially,
A pain you inflict but have never felt.
Can I ask you this while you’re still around?
Enter here, I’ll make sure you’re never found.
Feb 16, 2018
Feb 16, 2018 at 11:37 AM UTC
I have a stack of vinyls on my dresser.
Some of which I'll never listened to.
Because I thought I should buy
"Greatest Christmas Hits" for five dollars plus tax.
I have a stack perfume samples in my bottom drawer.
I rip them out from magazines,
Shut them in the darkness
Until they lose their scent.
I've always had a thing for stacks.
The way books look stacked on one another.
The way clothes stack up on my bedroom floor.
The way your freckles are stars stacked on your nose.
Last week I went to a bookstore.
It reeked of musk with shelves painted in titles of books
I will never read.
I walked, looking at most but touching one.
When I am with you,
I can't help but reaching for you
Because your skin is braille in the only
Book I picked out of the stacks.
Nov 16, 2017
Nov 16, 2017 at 11:05 PM UTC
When I am inside writing,
all I can think about is how I should be outside living.
When I am outside living,
all I can do is notice all there is to write about.
When I read about love, I think I should be out loving.
When I love, I think I need to read more.
I am stumbling in pursuit of grace,
I hunt patience with a vengeance.
On the mornings when my brother’s tired muscles
held to the pillow, my father used to tell him,
For every moment you aren’t playing basketball,
someone else is on the court practicing.
I spend most of my time wondering
if I should be somewhere else.
So I have learned to shape the words thank you
with my first breath each morning, my last breath every night.
When the last breath comes, at least I will know I was thankful
for all the places I was so sure I was not supposed to be.
All those places I made it to,
all the loves I held, all the words I wrote.
And even if it is just for one moment,
I will be exactly where I am supposed to be.
Oct 31, 2017
Oct 31, 2017 at 1:50 PM UTC