the day I became a man was the day I stopped saying,
"I am meant for so much more"
because I realized that
"I am meant for exactly this."

sunglasses
lipstick drips
humid
heat
cigarette on my lips
caressing me with your fingertips
kiss my cheek
but nothing more
for as you once said
i'm just a *****

Hey, what's up?
my name is Raq'y
I have messed up
that's probably y i'm so cocky

so, u have a life
i don't
I have a knife
*****-y-ness is my tone

guess I should of left u a lone
cuz ig u don't like it when i'm hanging out with my gf
but b4 i leave u alone don't break my bone
let me wear my hat called neff

my as hole is a girl
i used to date her
but now she is being an ***
used to be in my class

Blood is red, veins are blue.
I made this poem just for you.

I know this sounds creepy,
but you look really sleepy.

Run and hide
but I will find you.

Scream and cry
I'll always hear you.

Don't be afraid
Or I'll be mad

Blood is red, veins are blue.
I made this poem just for you

Oh ‪rose‬,
gentle ‪flower‬ spirit-
in these moments
i imbibe our singularity,
for I feel your delicate petals
blossoming from my ‪third-eye‬,
roots wrapped betwixt my ‪‎heart‬-
your scent whispering ‪Rumi‬
as I ‪dance‬ with you
in this delirious ‎springtime‬ tango
I cry out
"oh magnificent beings,
rejoice!
For I have found ‪us‬!
We're all together
in this moment!"
But the rose simply giggles coyly,
her dance continues
as if this was a secret she knew
all along.

i've never been
the kind of person
that others feel the need to impress
and go after
i'm not unwanted but i feel slightly less desirable
than the rest
it seems that being attainable is unattractive
i guess they assume i'll always be there
or that im not beneficial to their cause enough
i wonder what it is about me
that makes people less inclined
to text me first
or come running to me with gossip
i would consider myself an average listener
maybe even a pretty good one
i wonder what i'm missing
still, i don't think i'll ever stop seeking and listening
myself
is that my downfall? maybe so

my love is a tug of war, a game for children aged five through ten

he's the boy and i'm the girl, he pulls too hard and i fall down, i get back up but he's giving up again, i use all of my energy to pull the ******* rope back towards me, get that ******* knot back past my line, win this game, make sure it doesn't win me again

i can't be a loser so i fight harder and harder, dig my heels into the ground just so i don't move, try to be stagnant, end up being dynamic, his love makes me weaker, i'm losing my grip

months later the knot has lost meaning and i forget what i'm fighting for

His hands are large and strong
I knew this all along
Strong enough to hold me down

Smiles are contagious
His are crooked and malicious
Watching me squirm, crying

My daddy is not safe
I know now because he was taken away
But I thought this form of love was ordinary

I didn't mean to get him in trouble
But I was afraid when his hand was my muzzle
Now everyone looks at me like I'm made of glass

My mom says I can't talk to him
But I just don't get it
He said he wouldn't hurt me

My daddy wears orange
Mom answers his phone call with a look of warning
His clothes are in boxes down in the basement

There's a stack of papers on the counter
That mom's been staring at for the past hour
I think I need to help her with her homework

We make the bed with stains across the mattress
I don't think I can keep up with this practice
I pretend I don't see the guilt in mom's eyes

My mom and I sleep next to each other at night
Because we're both afraid he'll appear in the morning light
Looming over us with his hungry eyes