My 'Native' tongue
You tell the class
that my brother and I
speak in our
Native Tounge at home
You make it seem
as if there is a hidden languge
my race hide inside our homes
our streets
The way you make it out
Blackness is a secret club
and to join
you must know the code
But let me explain something,
When I speak to my family
I speak with the same education,
with the same **** accent
and cadence than I do with my white brothers
I am not putting up any act of being more than I am
just because I'm with you white folk,
Except maybe when I talk to white folk like you
because then I have my child friendly gloves on
because there must be something
really ****** stupid with you that you would say to
my face that I am putting on an act when talking to my 'betters'
Lady, you aren't any better than I am
If anything you seem a little stupid in the head
Because to let yourself think you know anything
about the life of an African American woman -
When you grew up in a rich *** neighborhood
and have never had to deal with people treating you as
a lesser race because of the colour of your skin-
Woman I had no idea people could be that out of touch with the world around them.
You say I speak to my daddy with a certain lilt in my tone
because I can but away the act I'm playing day by day
because i has to be an act, doesn't it?
I can't just be an woman with dark skin who cares
about the world she lives in,
who wants to learn all she can to help those around her,
That act has to come with a costume that I hang up at the end of the night
makeup that gets smeared off and run down the drain
You say I speak to me mama at home with
shortened sentences,
accents and s's where they shouldn't be
In a loud voice that the white folks down the street can hear
But let me tell you one thing,
My mama is white, *****
Jul 17, 2015
Jul 17, 2015 at 7:49 PM UTC
He’s not like the others,
he’s not even a wholly likable child.
I mean, he has the cute face
high squeaky voice
chipmunk cheeks.
It’s his personality,
his attitude,
it’s the fact that he’s only 7 years old
and already hates the majority of what he’s seen of this wide world.
It’s the fact that he manipulates everyone’s words
until he’s made the collage that meets his ideal visage.
He’s more than a handful.
He’s even more than a whole village’s armful.
And though I know a part of its’ the diagnosis
it’s hard to keep that in mind
all the time.
(It’s hard to forgive an unlikable child)
Even harder as he swings insults your way,
as you have to take off running after him for the nth time this week.
It’s hard keeping a straight face,
keeping the unflappable demeanor
through every offense.
It’s hard not to scream,
curse,
cry,
to remain the calm island in the face of the raging tempest.
But you have to.
(Even though he’s not the most likable child)
He is still a child.
And you’re loving compassion is stronger than his self destruction.
May 30, 2015
May 30, 2015 at 10:39 AM UTC
You tell me I should y'all
Text y'all
In those dark moments
But the **** am I supposed to say?
That I can't call you
Because
I am terrified of the condescending tone you use
That you think I can't hear
But will stay with me far longer
Than the attack?
And sometimes I feel I can just sense the judgement coming up cc you
as you look at my life
And don't see the pretty *** how on it
Should I call you back
After ye feelings have passed
To tell you how *******
bad I feel interrupting your
Previously scheduled program
For my break down?
Should I call you just during the major ones?
Or the mini ones that hot during the day
Should I add you on speed dial
For the six or seven times I'll call?
Should we make a schedule
Like the nurses do-
Who's on call
For the M train emergency tonight?
Should I tell you that 30% of the time at my therapist
Is spent deconstructing
Your reactions
To my actions?
No?
Cool.
Let's carry on as per usual then.
Apr 24, 2015
Apr 24, 2015 at 6:16 PM UTC
In another life
I am some bodies lover
Not wife, not girlfriend
Lover
The one he crawls to in the middle of the night
The one you hide away
The one you hold when you're to tired to deal with all the baggage at he
And I am okay with this
Our stories intersect one day as I was walking in the fog
In an outfit 'sluttier' than I had anticipated
He's out there on the road
Trying to escape his same old home
And he sees me
He recognizes me
The same can't be said for me
I've always been bad with faces and places
But you see me
And walk up to me
As I'm walking to a cafe on the street
We'll return pleasantries
And then ill recognize you
You'll walk me to my car
Even though I'm determined to walk alone
(Always too determined to walk alone)
I lean in
to hug
You lean in
for more
And I go along because that's me nature
And why the **** not
You'll call
Even though I didn't give you my number
We'll meet in hazy cafes
Dreary bars
All the the places your wife won't go
All the the places that seem like my second home
On our fourth meeting you'll hold me too long
Swear to yourself it's not anything more than longing
You'll doubt our arrangement
I'll be too strung out to see your internal battle
And you will see me
In that moment
As the broken thing
As the special project
That only you can fix
The mess
The that only you
Can hold together
I won't care about the ring line on your finger
You won't care about the *** you see on my kitchen table.
(Or the needles in my bathroom)
You won't care that I open the door in tears
I won't care that you can't stay the night
(But we both really do
Care
About everything)
You'll break down and tell me you love me
Even though you know it's the last thing I want to hear
You tell me
But I refuse to truly
Hear it
It comes through the too short grapevine that she want kids
And that's the notch that hits my trigger
Because children are the one
True innocence
Left in the world
And the second a minor enters our play
Is the moment I make my final exit
You lose me
Because I won't be found
You'll knock on the doors of my dealers
Call the family who turned their backs on me too long ago
I'll try to get it together
(And mostly fail)
I'll listen to too much Carole King
(Don't worry- I won't realize the irony)
The truth will come too clear in the eighth shot of Jameson
(And the nth hit)
The truth I hid from
Those frighteningly cliche three words
You go back to your perfect wife
I go back to my means to an end
You find me again
One night
(I let you find me)
And the accident that created
brightens my world
Wondrously
He becomes my life
The candle in the fog
My own perfection
My reason to feel the dreaded L word
I don't share him though
I'll give him everything
But you
(I'll thank you for the gift
everyday)
(I'll thank you for the love
Every second)
Apr 24, 2015
Apr 24, 2015 at 6:01 PM UTC
Cold bites at my toes
The music box plays its cherub song
Wind carries us away
Frigid air circles the earth
Giggling girls laugh on home
As breeze moves their hair
Weather has no bounds
Lightening strikes where ere it wants
Rustling leaves fly home
Dec 31, 2014
Dec 31, 2014 at 12:48 PM UTC
Thank you Costco
for not calling the cops
as 3 dark ninjas
ran through your gate
fought over chocolate
pondered over flowers
crashed carts into books
and then disappeared.
Dec 31, 2014
Dec 31, 2014 at 12:39 PM UTC
you and I
in the deep silence and
everlasting sanctity of the night
limbs never willing to leave one another
never having to
trapped in a kingdom of blankets
the air fills with fervent looks
and perfervid touches
seconds last for days and
hours last for seconds
our vital forces swirling
and curling together
becoming one vitality
hearts never leaving the other
we become one as the moon
makes his way into that silent night
Our souls will cry for each other
as dawn come
as our eyes open
and our bodies part
Dec 31, 2014
Dec 31, 2014 at 12:31 PM UTC
They locked him up
in a ******* cage
a boy
lost
a boy
who is stealing my new gameboy
on Christmas morn
a boy
who is making mini pies by my side
for a sweet thanksgiving suprise
a boy who looked
so *******
(heartbreakingly)
lost
that day his mother died
the boy who took a path
that so easily could have been mine
a boy who battled demons
that call to him at night
a boy with no inhibitions
to guide to the light
a boy we all believed in
whose aunt prayed for him at night
They locked him up
in a cage
because lady justice
had to have her way
but she doesn’t know what she’s done
he may be twenty
but he’s a boy
get him out of that box
he is sick
he doesn’t need your
degrading looks
your monstrous words
that boy
needs love
he needs stability
he needs help
compassion
I need him out of that cage
I need
that boy
to not be sick
and in
that ******* cage
I need to hold him
I need to wrestle with him
play gameboy with him
I need him to be that boy
He can be that boy
but you just won’t let him
I love him
so
get him
out
of that ******* cage
Nov 21, 2014
Nov 21, 2014 at 3:57 PM UTC
This six year relationship has reached it's end
Just like this old theater we're totally run down
The actors take their final bend
As the Ruby finally touches the ground
Just like this old theater we're totally run down
Hours in an empty building constructing the essence of the show
As the Ruby finally touches the ground
Finally free of that the turmoil we had to undergo
Hours in an empty building constructing the essence of the show
Putting our life's essence into things seen for 4 nights
Finally free of that the turmoil we had to undergo
We turn down the lights
Putting our life's essence into things seen for 4 nights
Everything will still live in our hearts
We turn down the lights
We pack up the sets, turn down the lights
Everything will still live in our hearts
The actors take their final bend
We pack up the sets, turn down the lights
This six year relationship has reached it's end
Nov 3, 2014
Nov 3, 2014 at 4:19 PM UTC
I Lied
the last time we spoke
You could have handled it
I couldn't
The Truth
The Truth Is
I couldn't handle
a tiny baby
wrapped in pink
in my arms
and knowing
knowing that she'd face
the same struggles I had
(I do)
The struggles
that are invisible to everyone else
But those who face them
The Truth Is
I do feel that darkness
the desperation
the desolation
even when I'm in a sea of people
And that sea
feels like it will swallow my down
close in on my and sink me to my own ocean
of self hatred
my voice leaves me
my happiness was left ashore
(a long time ago)
The Truth is
I couldn't handle knowing
as the moon rose to his apex
that as your brothers went out
as your peers partied
you would wander the streets
restless
feckless
and haphazardly
Not seeing the world around you
Not recognizing the world around you
walking through it
as though walking through a pool of molasses
Languidly and morosely
in a trance of forever dejection
I couldn't handle knowing
you were out there
as the drunks on the streets hooted and hollered
and reached out to touch you
And you walked on
Not realizing their ulterior motives
The Truth is
I couldn't as you fell
for the first man to love you
because love was such a foreign emotion
(I would love you
but you would fear the love of all others
push them away
without even realizing)
I couldn't stand watching
as that love turned cold and horrible
and you never even realized
(because I had never given you
a good relationship
to look up to)
as that man, boy
exploited your heart
took liberties that he never should have
The Truth is
I do see the demons
moving in the shadows at night
moving in the bright light of day
The Truth is
I feel the molasses desolation
the sea of hatred
the listless nights
The Truth is
I knew you would feel the same things
I couldn't do it
I couldn't watch as you ruined yourself
I couldn't stand watching you
become me
Nov 3, 2014
Nov 3, 2014 at 4:17 PM UTC