Somber showers
Pounce onto the windowpane
As the storm drags on, while
Brighter days seem
Distant
the melancholy
Gallops closer

Distress sneaks in
and disrupts my stillness all
too well

I become nervous,
no
I become frightened,
no… I… become
scared?

I become everything
except fine

as my hands grip my head
the thought
arises
to slash through my scalp
and snap through the skull
snatching out every thought
that would dare detour into
the solace of my mind

but I won’t do it
I am … a liar,
I am afraid
and I am certain that
this angst and
this anxiety will
win today
again

because above all,
I am
helpless

When I started
college
I chose
to study business
thinking it was
what I wanted

I thought that
entrepreneurship
was a skill and
a task that
I was up
for

but if I could
go back
and choose
again
I would choose
English,

oh
sweet
English

I think English
Is nobler
Than that of
business
at least in
my
eyes

I found that business
was not authentic,
and more so
it was not right
with my soul

English allowed me
to think
and to observe the world
as I should
and comment about
what I saw
and what others
saw,
and what others
felt
English allowed me
to take note
of those talking
no matter how big
or small their voice was

it helped me learn that
this world is big
and I am small

English is patient,
and kind
while business was
anything but

business taught me
falsely,
that I am bigger
than I am

business is forceful,
business is savage,
and business is controlling
and business does not listen
to anyone
but to
those with
the loudest voice

I think it is
noble
to admire life
and all her
blemishes and faults
rather than to
take control
of
her

rather than snatching
her by her
arms
only to ravage
and **** in the hopes
of my own
good fortune
at the disregard
of others

The seeds within
me are waiting
patiently

waiting for their
nourishment
as each and every
day passes by

I water them
slowly,
drizzling each
kernel with the
waters of life

the word of
Yahweh
coming down
in a stout storm
within my heart
as the lightening
shatters my soul
and a deep downpour
pummels the seeds
with life

his word
yields great returns
as the seeds
blossom
bursting from my
soul with a bountiful
bulk of
Fruit

a plentiful harvest
erupting from my
heart,
some fruit to keep
for myself
and
some fruit to share with others

I sit at the beach
and I
notice
everyone's face is covered
with sunglasses except for
mine

mine are open

Behind each
pair of glasses
lies
what
cannot be covered

the eyes are the
pathway to the soul
and most keep  
their trails
hidden

afraid of tyrants
trespassing into their
hearts
and scared of
what
"other"
perils may sneak in
and storm their spirit

I keep my
eyes uncovered
knowing that
many will see me
as I am
and many will
label me,
and turn away from me

but I still,
keep my eyes open

open out of
my own stupidity,
and carelessness,
and apathy

but more so
out of hope,
and out of optimism
for the one who will
enter my trail
and not
turn back

just the thoughts
of someone hiking
through to
my soul and entering
my heart to stay forever
is what keeps my
eyes

open

I thank
every black
woman,
for being a
black woman
and staying true
to their soul
while knowing
that the goal
is to keep them
spiritually,
and mentally in
a black hole
where they
brittle and burn
down to
nothing more than
broken black coals
but in every sistah’s
triumph is ignited
deep down by a riot
that doubles as a lion
to nash and knaw through
each of the
trials
and slowly, but
surely
every inch
and pinch
forward turns
into many miles

As you
slice through
your struggles
with a heavenly
finesse and
a flourishing style,
I pray you
wear proudly
your curly haired
crowns
as dark skin
conquerers that
NO man
can defile

I love you

I had always had
love
and I had always ignored
it

just as a whale puts no
value in the sea
until it washes up on
the shore

I was blind to the love
I had
and only
saw my lover
once she was
long gone