She is a work of art
The epitome of beauty
Covered in her African butter
She wears a crown handcrafted by God
When her foot touches the ground even the devil bows down
She was happy with her perfect imperfections
Till you came along and made her feel like absolute trash
Playing mind games, you're really good at that
Threatened by her crown, you told her to take it off
"Straighten that Bush over your head"
Told her that her berry was not sweet enough
" Bleach your skin, light is the new beautiful "

When you were out with your peasant till 2am
She started reconnecting with the God within her
And He restored her confidence

When you least expected it, she packed her bags
Put her crown back on and went back to owning her throne
You and your cheap peasant didn't even last after her
You can't enjoy your side dish without your main meal

Now tell me....
How on earth do you even sleep at night?

It is not enough to fall in love and be at a standstill.
It isn’t enough to toss a coin and wish that it lands on its tail.
It is not enough to spin the luck-wheel and hope for a big cash-in.
You have no idea what the future holds for you.
Do not try to control it,
Let loose and let the fun in.
That is when the creativity starts to dance around you.
There is never a better time to do things than now.
There is no present like the time we’re in.
Surrender to uncertainty,
For it is an invitation to human will, unexplored.
For your last days must be filled with happy memories,
Blissful recollections of a story, a status quo.
Never should it be recounted by your graveside, tales of you unholy.
But may it be thought of, and numerous nights of candle-wax spent
Thesis of you as life’s alembic, the needed conduit,
Conducting friendships at will; and love’s delightful dawn
And ushering in the mellowing yellow of day.

Involuntary   gags of apologies escape my mouth
And feeds their easily bruised egos
These apologies swaddle beneath my clenched fists
These apologies rip open my jaws and serve them for dinner
Well I am so
Sorry for being black
Sorry for  being woman
Sorry for being strong

Sorry is the noose that still grapples me in my sleep when watching my unborn daughters and nieces arrive shackled
But I have decided evicted sorry and told him he has no place in my mouth or in my mind
so I unsorry
Unsorry for being black
Unsorry for being woman
Unsorry  for being sorry

UnApologetic now resides

I was just trying to leave something behind.
I broke into his house yet again.
I laid on his bed and smelled his socks.
The smell of old, moldy feet.
So I took a **** on them.
Oh, I was just trying to leave something behind

I’m walking away from vulnerability and closing my heart off, I’m better off using my heart less.
I was close to the cliff like Clair Huxtable but a part of me felt like jumping off.
I probably look like a fool right now, expressing all my feelings in full right now.
I’m hurting and I know that I’m not perfect; the weight of all these words has gradually become a burden.
You are the words I tried to say when my mouth was shut and my larynx was flooded with silence.
Heartbreak comes in the morning when the sun is shining, when the wind is blowing and my coffee has gone cold.
Forever is a myth and the future is uncertain; the weight of all these words has gradually become a burden.
Somewhere in my heart there’s a void, a void that I hopelessly walk around trying to avoid.
You made letting go seem so easy, detachment was always something you were good at.
I wish that you receive everything that I couldn’t give to you, there’s so much of myself that I could sacrifice.
I hope that it was all worth it – you abandoning the home you’ve made in me.
A friend once told me, *“Don’t make homes out of people because they always leave and take everything you own with them.
Or better yet, they stay and ruin everything you’ve worked so hard to build.”

I get high off my lows when my life is rapidly moving out of control.
I wish someone had told me that drugs come in the form of people too.
I love waking up whole to the bonfire of a warm and loving soul.
But I know that you will eventually grow tired of me somehow they all do.
Diligently dealt with depression before and I’ve been silently subjected to a detrimental allure.
This obsession with depression will have me in a state of regression.
I have visions of nightmares when the night stares, this is my confession.
I have been falling apart while trying to piece together my broken heart.
Love does not know the pain it heals and pain does not know the love it seeks.
The doors of my closet lead to a graveyard that has been burdened with my endeavours of trying to be someone worthy of your love.
Depression hit harder than the recession, it had me regressing and constantly questioning my level of progression.
I wish someone had told me that drugs come in the form of people too.
If someone alerted me then I wouldn’t have fallen so deep in love with you.

Tickle my *****
Whilst you ****** with my shaft.
I like how you smile up at me,
With that twinkle in your eyes,
The sight of naughtiness in its fullest form.

You're a cruel lover!
You **** me till im dizzy
Then you keep on
Even when i've passed my threshold.
How i think, "hey, i really love her."
When you swallow it all and lick your lips after i've ***.

The way your tongue swirls around your plump lips
As you begin to tease me back to *******.
How without uttering words, you ask me for another round.
It's been a forthnight since we first met and i have lost count of the seeds that we have spilled.

You were always online but never on line in all ways.
For days on end, my calls and messages would go ignored and unanswered.
I left my heart far away from the margin on a page that was carelessly ripped out from my book of thoughts.
Forever is a myth and the future is uncertain; the weight of all these words has gradually become a burden.
At around 2 a.m. in the morning I am usually up thinking about you with no hope of finding sleep.
I am usually up listening to a wide variety of songs that exceptionally complement my melancholic mood.
It’s hard walking away from a girl whose arms I’ve always wanted to run into.
What should I do now with the love that I’ve always wanted to give to you?
As I toss and turn, my earphones inevitably become as tangled up as the words I’ve tried to say to you.
The words that I have tried to say to you are now slowly suffocating me.
These words keep depriving me of the air that I need to breathe when I think about the greatness that we both could be.
Forever is a myth and the future is uncertain; the weight of all these words has gradually become a burden.

It's amazing
It's beauty as much as we try, can't be defined
Beautiful as a blossoming flower
Then it withers
For it never lasts
But lives on in the lovers hearts forever

that sudden heartbeat.
that touch that tickled my mind.
that voice that made me believe i spoke to an angel.
that beauty that made me see the first woman in my life.
that smile that gave me strength.
that gorgeous being that made me understand biology.
those lips that made me yearn for sunshine.
those eyes that made me run for shelter.
the heat and warmth that i felt when you were near.
the feel of love.

I see you and can't look you in the eye
I feel your presence as you pass by me and i can't feel your touch
I hear you speak and i can't just open my mouth
I see your footprints and i cant follow your steps
We both stare at each other and i look away

my mother has blue eyes
but I'm still a ******
my mother has blonde hair
but I'm still a ******
my daddy is black as night
but I'm still a *******
my daddy has ***** curls
but I'm still a *******

I call this hash tag the struggle
because to be biracial is nothing
more
because to be biracial is nothing
less
than a struggle
to find who I am
to find who I should be
to find who I'm supposed to be

i really wish they were the same person
i really wish you understood hash tag the struggle
but you don't
and you won't

so stop telling me about my
good hair
and stop telling about my high
yellow skin
and stop telling me my parents have the fever
and stop staring at me when I
walk in
and stop trying to guess which parent is black
and stop trying to guess which parent is spanish

No

I'm not Spanish.

No

I don't speak Spanish.

No

You CANNOT touch my hair

Yes, my nose is in the air
Of course I think I'm the ****
Because I live my life trying to be better than women who are dark skinned ...with something I was born with
...out of my control
Of course I try to flaunt my plush lips around the white girls who get botox
who then become the have nots because I've stolen all the brothas hearts from the city and the boondocks

See you don't even know me
but you think these are my goals

see I call this hash tag the struggle because nobody understands the trouble in being whole
when you're given two halves
that don't match to patch up one soul
and you're born into a ****** up mess still expected to know

and they tell you to ignore them all
be yourself
race should not define you
but I can't even fill out two ******* boxes on a standardized test
because you are only allowed to check ONE to describe you

hash tag
**TheStruggle