It is in these moments of utter nothing I know I am not meant to be here. We are only missed when we are far from home, far from others' convenience. Far, I want to be stretched across the borders,  full moments spent exploring. Take me somewhere where my mom can't call me back in a heartbeat and friends can't stop by on their way home. Away. Because I, by myself, do not measure up enough to be missed if I am within distance. By anyone. So only 1 person will call, probably because he's so far... I just want someone to play cards with me in the grass, walk to the park with and talk about life. Breathing with the breeze when there are no words left to speak. People lack compassion, not realizing sometimes you just need to be in someone else's prescence besides your own. They deprive you of this. Leaving you with a solitude that was once so sweet that it rotted before you. Now brown, once the ripest green. One day I will be missed, that's why I always want to leave.

I fell in love with him the way you fall asleep: slowly at first, then all at once.*

He is 6 hour skype calls until the sun comes up, laughing at how my upper lip looks like a mustache and his nose looks like the bell on the Taco Bell logo.

He is the lover of black women that says my poems are beautiful and my tans are healthy.

He is a conversation that never ends but never strays to flirtation nor awkwardness. A listener of my stories and the laughter that gives them meaning.

He is comfort in a place that is unknown. He is the unexpected friend that feels so close to something I've always known.

Oh how he is.

running on my mind*
Flowing through the river of day old conversations that still make me laugh like the moment the words left the lip of your mouth

If I could remember I would.
Remember who you were before this
Find myself in your face
Feel the pattern of my skin in your palms
It shouldn't be so hard to find your memory
Especially since you keep recurring
But I don't want to remember
No point in traveling down that road again because there's no guarantee the destination will in fact be the you I once knew. I won't know if the journey was worth it until it's too late. I threw in the towel early yes, but where did you expect me to go?

This is especially written for you.
Out there.
For the colored girls.

The girls that are insecure with their lovely brown tint
in between the deep chocolate and lemon yellows.
you'll never hear the term red or yellow bone
You don't know what color your bones possess

The girls whose hair used to naturally curl but couldn't hold the press and curl long enough to feel like its meant for you to look like that all the time. So you agreed when your mama offered to relax your hair so you could relax too. That way even if you couldn't be as light as the mixed girls and the red bones, at least your hair could be as laid as theirs…

I'm writing this to the girls that weren't blessed with the hips nor *** black women are forever praised for. Questioning why our figures aren't as exotic as society tries to generalize. We aren't fit to be the token when we lack the true characteristics that are associated with our ancestors, right? I'm writing this for the tokens that have lost themselves in the crowds they've tried to fit into. Don't lose yourself forgetting to be you.

I'm writing this for every colored girl that questioned if she was beautiful, as I used to do. Always assuming  everything bad that happened was because you simply weren't light enough for good things to happen to you. No light girl, white girl priviledge. I'm writing this to resurrect all the ill feelings i've ever thought about my blackness before I realized it was okay to be so, in hopes that maybe I can ease a colored girl's mind when she feels like she's too black for the world.

This is for her.
The beautiful colored girl.

It's coming to an end.
A month of new people, experiences, tasks, students. It's ending. I came in just ready for a job, now leaving with so many new outlooks on life, so many new faces that will appear in my dreams, so many more people that depend on me. I came in ready to do whatever it took for the guaranteed $1500, leaving blessed to be receiving a check from doing a job I rarely thought of as such. As if I was being paid to laugh with students, answer their questions about myself, keep them structured, just to be there for them.

Don't get me wrong, I was stressed often, but it seemed worth it the first heart to heart I had with a student. It was beyond worth it when I participated in the fashion show wearing my clothes and they all cheered for me. It was the moment I got my counselor reviews back and all my students said my personality and energy was "lovely" and they knew they could come to me for whatever reason.

I never held so much responsibility. One of my students was legally blind, I took it upon myself to always ensure her safety, medications, and accommodations. It was the first time someone really depended on me. I loved her like my own.

I realized why some people don't always take the job that promises the highest wage, because now that I think of it my work was worth more than $1500, but the experiences make up for it. The moments you look forward to greeting your students and them laughing at the awkward moments you too went through in high school. I wanted to cry when they told me I had to return next summer, when they had no trouble reminding me that I am beautiful inside and out as I ironically preached it to them.

It's a bond that cannot be broken amongst staff and students. We survived together on this island, and now that it's over I can't even remember what I was like before this.
I love these PEOPLE like they were my own.

I never noticed, or thought about him in "that way". Never really took a second glance until I was asked "Is that your boyfriend?" Wondering why exactly she would get that impression. I brushed it off until she asked days later "Is that your best friend?" Where was she getting these notions? She clearly hadnt known. I ignored her until two more said they were discussing how we have chemistry, how we always can be found laughing, the pleasure we have just talking to each other. Always greeting "Hey B" as he responds "Hey Al" .I never noticed because I was too busy laughing at his theory that Vaseline can cure all, his admittance of not showering, laughing at the way he really doesn't care what people say, the way he convinced all of staff I had sharted that afternoon and should be called booboo leg. He always keeps me laughing, even that time I was crying and he looked at me and laughed, just to come back and eat mangos as I cried, saying "stop crying" in the same way he says "shut up".

I never noticed.