whatever you’re looking for
i hope you find
exactly what you’re looking for

running
but I can’t seem to outrun
anything
not my problems
not time
not my past
not you

they built homes
with brick and stone
on the land where my ancestors bled the red that runs through our bones
and denied us loans
to flourish in these homes
and build the wealth
that will grant my children’s children better health.
this
on the very land that my ancestors bled the red that runs through our bones

-redlining

i’ll spend this lifetime
being a voice
for
people who look like me
without
homes
money to their name
families
health insurance
a support system
without
a government of people who look like them
so my brothers and sisters
in the next lifetime
won’t have to

- fight for it

tell me that I have potential
tell me I can do it if I try
tell me about my skin
tell me my skin shines

tell me I can be an anesthesiologist
tell me I can save lives
tell me that I am valued
tell me that I have rights

tell me to finish my education
tell me knowledge is power
tell me to use my voice
tell me it too has power

tell me I’m a woman
tell me I can be whatever I want
tell me I can make my own money
tell me I can flaunt

tell me I’m talented
tell me I’m art
tell me my beauty
tell me it races hearts

the feeling consumes me
fast and unrelenting
my hands tremble
my body trembles
my heart races
nothing is clear
i see nothing
i’m inconsolable
i thought i was sad
no
i’m mad

stick and stones
may break my bones
but one by one
i’ll pick them up
and build my own home
so
capitalist policies can’t
change the very foundation on which I was raised
and
the next boy and girl
can drive by
and see their childhood home

-as they remember it

I don’t like the smell of ****
When it travels up my nostrils
It plants its unwanted seeds

I don’t like the smell of ****
It takes me back to apartment 3B
Where there was no heat or light
And I really can’t tell you how we made it through the night

I don’t like the smell of ****
It reminds me of poverty
It takes me back to street fights on humid summers nights

I don’t like the smell of ****
Like a black cloud following me down the street
Stepping over pieces of broken bottles
Of swallowed sorrows

I don’t like the smell of ****
It means money was spent on things we didn’t need