I am a *****
Minus the triggers being pulled and the drugs being sold
But just a black man bold enough to face a world so cold
A cold world we call society
When being black and sobriety doesn't mix because we use drugs in variety
But quietly
I am a *****
Thinking what made this word so negative
Is it because we made it positive
Or is it negative we became cognitive enough for a scholarship
Yes, I am a *****, no I'm not a rapper
But this system makes me sick enough for chicken soup and crackers
Yes, I am a *****, and I am an athlete
And I still maintain my sanity from having my *** beat
Although I am a *****, I am not lesser than you
Nor am I second to you
I just wonder what it takes to get the message to you
Crazy I'm a ***** yet I still know my father
Crazier calling me a ***** doesn't give me a bother
Maybe it's crazy that I'm a part of the problem
What's craziest is I'm a ***** still attending a college
You should have no problem reading this regardless of race
What's absurd is a word means more than a face
We're more focused on race than we are as a species
But I'm going to sit back and take a sip of this sweet tea
We went from black panthers, huge bushes, picks, and combs
I thought words could never hurt you?
What happened to sticks and stones?

sorry I lied when I said all I want to do is sleep

I haven’t slept in weeks

That’s a lie too of course

I put in an hour or two inbetween

Lying on the floor or in the tub

I hate the cold

But I didn’t used to

And that isn’t romantic

But things do change

Like the way the stars align and how I perceive death

And how I haven’t met my match

The late night is a song with synths

And the moon sings dream pop songs

About love and rest and the gaping holes planted in the sea

What does that even mean?

When it’s 3am you’re in tune with everything

I search
                                      for the words

                                                          ­                     I
wrote on my hips;

                                              but
                                                                ­              not another word,

                  left my frozen lips.

                                                          ­                      There is no way to
                                                                ­      springtime,

        the winter,
                   takes her tole.

                                                               ­       I bury myself away,
                                                         in this 3 pillow,
                                           double bedded hole.

Darling, but I keep myself sane.
               I dream of flowers in my hair & the warmth in your name.
    Early July conversations,
                        tapping strings, how we'd softly sing
                                           & were guided to one another's lips
      at the very touch of our finger tips.
                               I always thought I was better than this,
                                                                                                 but
                                                             ­            Love,
                                                                ­              
                                     Your heart is one I often miss.

You're like a punctuation mark
on my vocal cords.
Making me reconsider my shaking breath.
Wondering what my words will be as I say them.
So unsure of the skin on my fingers.
Unsure if it will singe your skin
with my self-doubt and deprecation.
and my dwindling eyesight on love.
making me reconsider who i am
and indefinitely who I've been
You are the hitch in my ribcage.
The adjacent lungs in my body
withering
finding oxygen in gas chambers.
and debating on it's validity.

Don't be scared to get a little dirt under your fingernails.
Dare to dig through the tunnels
her scars have built around her
wipe your hands when necessary -
pause - catch your breath
but keep going

Get yourself new spectacles
ensure they're clear enough to let you see the cracks
and when you do
pick and pull at them
start at the corners
they fall off more easily
watch as rock slips after rock
some heavier than others
because memories can be hard to let go of
look for the loose ones and caress them
listen to her song
let it guide you towards her

don't listen as tick follows tock
she is not a land mine
she is a hidden gem;
be gentle

when you are exhausted - sweating and panting
when the sand has huffed and puffed on your face
and doubt begins to whisper,
look at your bare feet
they no longer hurt from the miles walked
Mother Earth has painted them with strength
she has embraced them,
you are her child and
your feet are pointing forward;
Don't you dare defy them

Don't be scared to get a little dirt under your fingernails;
Dig through a few layers of society
and you will find unadulterated beauty

After you have climbed all her mountains
and swam her rivers
you will finally see
that she is not pretty
She is not confined in five letters
She is a sonnet, a love song
an unread novel
ready to be explored; liberated
ready to be alive

She is the happiness in your face
when you reach the hilltop,
an autumn breeze on a summer day,
she is the courage that it takes
to look into her eyes
and give her your lusting fingernails;
To say:
You are the true face of beauty.