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878 · Feb 2021
I Am Nature Too
Krystal M Toney Feb 2021
My skin is brown
like the Earth way down,
my veins as long as roots.

My hair is twisted
like wandering vines
My god, I am Nature too.

My tears are waves
like ocean spray,
my eyes carry the tide like moons.

My legs are wings
that carry me
like Eagles, I am Nature too.

My whisper is like the wind,
my heart beats like rivers do.
I am Black. I am proud.

But my god, I am Nature too.
831 · Sep 2020
Stars
Krystal M Toney Sep 2020
And when the sun had set
the coolness embraced
her frolicking silhouette.
And it was here,
buried in the darkness of her mind
that she saw the stars
for the first time.
Sometimes a certain amount of darkness is required in order to truly appreciate the beauty and complexity of a star.
664 · Oct 2020
Thelma
Krystal M Toney Oct 2020
And in her last moments,
my grandmother turned to me
with tears swelling in her tired eyes
and said
I weep not because of the beauty
which I am leaving
but because of all the beauty
which has yet to come.


I still weep with you.
To my great grandmother. A decade has passed and the pain remains the same, but the beauty you spoke of is so evident.
555 · Oct 2020
What Is Sober?
Krystal M Toney Oct 2020
I remember your words
flowing from your lips
like liquid fire
warming my tired bones.

Oh, what is sober
to swaying hips
that swirl like jack
in a clear glass?

Drink my soul dry
like numbing whiskey
teasing the tongue
the way you tease my thoughts.

I take in every drop
of you
like the addict
I am.
I would drink the bottle dry a thousand times over if the world promised me you waited for me at the bottom.
Krystal M Toney Oct 2020
A soul asleep
found bullets colliding
and the devil was charged
only for the bullets that missed.

So Riot! Riot! Riot!
And burn it down!

Because a soul that weeps
fuels the body
that riots.

#NoJusticeNoPeace
Amerikkka was built on the backs of bruised, ****** black backs and I refuse to let my ancestors' forced sacrifice be forgotten because acknowledging the racism that thrives in the country you loves make you uncomfortable. Lives over capitalism. My ancestors were forced to build this country...and their descendants will tear it down.
504 · Sep 2020
Her Wings
Krystal M Toney Sep 2020
She hung on to the edge
afraid to fall
back into the same routine
of plucking petals
and mending broken things.

Her wings, a mess
feathers meshed with hate and lies
from past lovers that scrutinized
the way she drew the skies
with her silhouette
ensuring she would never find
the will to rise or ever fly.

Her wings.
An old poem I once posted under an alias.
478 · Sep 2020
LIKE THE earth
Krystal M Toney Sep 2020
I am like the Earth.
I mold easily
so that you may enjoy the fruits of my soil
and live upon my flaking surface.
But my love,
you are killing me with all you take
and the little in which
you are willing to give
so that we both may live.
An excerpt from a journal entry on 9/23/2020. In the title "LIKE THE" are presented in all uppercase while "earth" is presented in lowercase accentuating how we continuously place value on the wrong things (or words) in life. Enjoy.
375 · Sep 2020
Red Flags
Krystal M Toney Sep 2020
I am the red flag
sprawled across your trembling limbs
when the world reminds you
that winter is also a season.

I am a reminder
that perfection exist
only in flawed visions
of how we see others
but refuse to see ourselves.

I'm the one you vent about
but refuse to listen to
because red flags
aren't viewed as imperfections
but as infractions;
Violations of laws
that neither of us agreed to
but live by.

Do you not see your own flags
boldly waving in the wind?
The way I stumble
beneath your force
or cringe
beneath your voice.

Do you talk about the way your flag
clings to it's pole?
Refusing to be pulled down?
Refusing to be burned?
An excerpt from a journal entry made on 9/18/2020. Currently dealing with my own flaws while quietly wondering if she notices her own...or even notices me.
373 · Sep 2020
Mountains
Krystal M Toney Sep 2020
Our twisted bodies
collided into one another,
like bits of angry Earth
reaching for the horizon.
And beneath our bed of dirt
we rose like mountains.
Deprived of oxygen,
but still
I could not help

but to dance upon your peaks.
For my lover and friend. What beautiful mountains we have built using only our hands and hearts.
305 · Sep 2020
Armadillo Trail
Krystal M Toney Sep 2020
My feet tease the path
as I dare to venture
deeper into my own
simple pleasures.

Beckoning to the trees
to sing the melodies
of our tired ancestors
as the wind flows through their leaves
like fingers over a harp's strings.

The hawk dances with the shadows,
daring the sun's rays to cut in,
hand outstretched, shinning and asking
may I have this dance?

The owls hoot the language
of muzzled tribes.
Low and deep,
filling the forest with the vibrations
of forgotten souls.

And as the world calls,
the armadillo crosses my path.
It follows me to the ledge.
It offers me it's armor
and pushes me off the edge.
In honor of the armadillo that crossed my path not once BUT twice. May your visits continue to remind me that the forest is not only alive BUT LIVING.
297 · Nov 2020
My Heart Belongs In Arizona
Krystal M Toney Nov 2020
My heart belongs in Arizona

I long for the fire
of the Arizona sky.
I long for the wind
caressing dusty mountains
way up high.

I long for the blackened desert
touched by the tail of a lone fire horse
that burns like our desire
and leaves our bodies torched.

Stand with me
beneath a burning sun
that'll drench our skin
and leave our souls undone.

My heart belongs in Arizona.
A poem from my journal.
292 · Oct 2020
Photograph
Krystal M Toney Oct 2020
We were a photograph.
Trapped in a beautiful memory,
blinded by the flash
that imprisoned us within the moment.
I still have our photograph.
262 · Sep 2020
Black Cocoon
Krystal M Toney Sep 2020
My black cocoon
embraces my sorrows,
shielding me from the views
of an angry truth.

How I wish
I could break free
and learn to use my wings,
but the comfort
of a prison built by my own hands
is more solid and reassuring
than open skies.

I fear freedom
because I have never known it.
This poem came to me in a split second as an answer to a question I commonly ask myself: Why not take the chance? Why not do something different?...be someone different? Why not use the wings that you are capable of growing if only you would step outside the realm of inevitable comfort?
137 · Oct 2020
Blessed Are They
Krystal M Toney Oct 2020
Blessed are they
who see hope
amidst the perils
of heartbreak.
I am broken.
78 · Nov 2020
I Sometimes Wonder
Krystal M Toney Nov 2020
I sometimes wonder
if my heart deserves
the bruises you tend
to sometimes leave behind.

The scars from wars
fought over lies.
Omitted fruit
tasting like paradise
on a starving tongue.

I sometimes wonder
if you will ever accept
that the sky isn't always blue.
Sometimes there's pain
and with it, rain.
But flowers grow anew.

You strut your stuff
while I walk the plank.
While your ships afloat
and my boat has sank.

I sometimes wonder
if you see me
in the midst of her shadow.
Standing and waiting.
I sometimes wonder.
Just words on a page, is it anger or rage? I guess we will never know.

— The End —