Off on a tangent
My fingers in transient
Clasping and clutching
sensing and touching-
While they still can,
Before our crossroads split
And exigency omits
That peculiar feeling of familiarity
And all absconds that impression of clarity
Then it is goodbye
With all relics of that high
All remnants of our contingence
Because our futility is insistent

At this late hour
We tarry over tea and
Enchase each other

I regard my attraction to language as an affair,
as a withstanding relation,
a product of indecorous communication.
This devotion has demanded a life of its own,
accepting my whole as its proxy.
Others won't understand this affinity.
They aren't familiar with the curving lilt of a domestic tongue,
Nor the taste of a verse fermented in the mouths of one's ancestors,
Surely not the stuttering moans of a mother dialect,
Yet the sharp sting of a jagged vernacular,
or the mastery and art behind the articulation of a single utterance.
This discourse developed over time,
I required maturation and growing before my notions aligned.
I felt eager upon observing the pervasive movements of great text
Which delivered a high known greater than ***.
It is true that I contemplated profoundly first,
before committing my desire and will to the whole of verse.
But now that my diction reflects the appeal of great literature and enamoring fiction
I couldn't be more satisfied.

I like your crooked teeth.
And how they taunt me.
Bothering and provoking.
Unwinding me slowly.
Sharp and angled precariously like church steeples.
Blasphemous teeth.
And how they subdue me.
A smile that mocks my desire.
One that makes me feel unworthy.
Unmatched and unwanted.
And I fantasize our first kiss
We are one centimeter apart
Spirits connected through heart
A mess of heavy syncopated breaths
The vibrating pulse under the mass of your *******
Tempting liquid lips
Languid and flowing like liquor above a cup
We are sloppy and missing the curves of the rim
The air becomes a target for every tantric touch
The proximity Thick With Our Invisible Lust
My eyes scale the jagged curves of your frame
Hands feigning and groping and stuttering like staccato
You tremble under my caress with much vibrato.
And you are mine.
Except in reality,
you won't spare me a second of your time.

My house is made of cards and glass
a frame of sticks and straw
a base of mud
a roof of tin

I am confined to these four corners
defined by the paint peeling from the walls
the veil of glass shards under my feet
pricking me like little needles

Pungent and fetid
it's radiating from the carpet
heat seeking and
desperate to invade my senses

Lead chipping from the ceiling-
the ceiling might cave in
The roof may realize it can longer shield me
It cannot hold my burdens, any longer

The thin walls might falter
might waver against the loud noise
the forte of shouting and yelling
It’s all subject to collapse

The windows cracked
like veins
Shattered church mosaics
that open to the little light that never shines

I cannot breathe in these cramped quarters
in the dark of my basement
in the cell of a prison
in the bowels of a slave ship

I am suffocated from every angle
until I can’t breathe
until I am no longer happy
nor welcome in my own home

I am on the cusp of eviction
in a situation that for once cannot be solved through diction
These walls talk for me
as I still struggle around the lyrics of my Harlem fiction

I cannot step outside the front door
though I try so hard I am always trapped
I am convinced I can’t make it outside these walls
the same walls that crowd and constrict

The price of living has become unreasonable
My indentured wages cannot pay these bills
I’m desperate and cutting deals
These walls will tumble any second

My pride has long since crumbled

I stay-
squalering in the filth and debris
because I fear I do not deserve anything greater

I stay-
choking around my pride
because I feel I am not equal

I stay-
decaying in poverty
because I have always settled for less

I look to her but
Kyoko means reflection
I now see my muse

"I Love You"s melted

Under my tongue 'til you were

Yet bitter nostalgia,

Yet the feeling of emptiness

Yet the absence of memories

Yet the memories of absence.


Let the shadow of those two petals rest

And rim a mirage over my lips.

Let that serve as a reminder of the venom behind every kiss.

Let me accept the reality that you mean me no good.

That I should’ve stopped when I still could.


Take heed that I want more.

Take to heart I’m too vulnerable to make these kinds of decisions.

Take pity that I’m too submissive to threaten your position.

Take this kiss as a final blow.

As a signature of defeat.

This coup d’etat

The last draw in heat.

That tree that stood tall...
 
Years of knowledge ingrained in its ligaments...
(Numerously choked by its own rings)
 
I still see our carvings...
(The haunting scars imbedded deep into the bark and our memories.)
 
Hieroglyphic memorials for our first everything...
(The dates of which things died.)

The knot furled into its center...
(Forget-me-nots decaying at its very roots.)
 
Do you remember?
(How hard was it to forget?)

solange say self care be a safe space.
a place to love.
to not deal.
months into therapy and i have not begun to heal.
the doctor say i got PTSD.
recommends skills for coping that i done heard before like
post it's of encouragement decorating my vanity
traumatic memories written pretty and rhythmic in a journal
stress wrapped beneath my prayer dress as i kneel in sujood
disorder made neat with Google calendar routines
or
something like that.
solange say self care be your house.
the comfort of hiding.
the keeping your mental safe.
see
i ain't slept in days.
because at some point the journey to bed transcended a frame of time.
became star gazing up at the texture of my ceiling.
became laps around the park at 3 am
became me welcoming lovers into my space to ferry me to my dreams.
solange say self care be your partner.
be eclipsing in the warmth of your love.
staying protected inside of complacency.
i welcomed him. them. the toxicity
my flesh still crawls at the shadow sensation of arms encasing my frame
coiling around me like snakes.
i have yet to understand love but i have grown accustomed to the volition of being ******.
or so i tell myself.
solange say self care be a mission.
a journey in itself.
to find rest in oneself.
i may not know nothing about no logical course of action or emotion
but some nights i find myself blazing down highland as if it was aṣ-Ṣirāṭ al-mustaqīm
and i get so frightened to my core of the honking horns and leering strangemen that i **** near prostrate myself on the street and make dua for protection and guidance.
say self care-
self care is...
self care be-
self care be tidying the mess that is i.
braiding my hair just for a ***** to pull on it.
wearing a pretty dress just for somebody to make me feel ***** in it.
coloring just to break the crayons in stupor.
making tea just for it to line my throat as bile.
laying down to sleep just to be awake for hours.
self care be a fight.
be a rush of anxiety imposing upon my nights
self care be a dream
a sweaty nightmare of ****** pressed against my back and weight dropping upon my shoulders.
self care be a struggle
self care be a disorder
self care be disorder
self care be me smiling in the mirror and saying mashallah i'm here ain't it?
it's ok to take this **** day by day.

Im less a person
So i feel i am not equal
More of a burden

Threadbare tapestry
Spreading dust and memories
Unravels slowly

Dear Eve,
The beat of my heart
The gasp and sigh of my lungs
The conversation hid under my tongue
You are my passion.
My everlasting light.
The promise of dawn that pacifies me through night.

Eve,
I am nothing without you.
I am nothing without the balm of your fragrance,
The compassion of your embrace.
The warmth of your smile.


Eve,
You carried my burdens on your back
You bared the weight of the world
You birthed my sorrow and pain
I bled and drained you for my gain.

Eve,
Will you stay by my side?
Will you promise?

Eve,
Will you smile once more?
Do I deserve solace?

Eve,
Forgive me.
I welcome my fate.
But I can’t accept yours.

“I Love You”s melted
Under my tongue ‘til you were
Bitter nostalgia

im such a big girl
i should be proud of myself
because i dont cry

your curious gaze,
teasing smile, laughter. languid
like straight tequila.

ever flowing and
missing the rim of my cup
an intentful flow.

alikened to shame and
reddened on my dark cheeks like
ripened tomatoes.

you are a pleasant
sharp tasting fruit. bitter yet
ready to be plucked.

vineless. ever free.
forbidden. incandescent
and reflective shine.

what little is left
clutch it like a cornerstone
don't let it leave soon

you feed me by hand
I don't care how little
or how much
because this is the most delicious thing i've had in a long while.
you are at fault for
the overflow of trepidation collecting across my tongue that accuses me
the mess i've made of my head assuming.
I have equal fault and take the guilt as it comes
like when you benefit me with conversation
shower just enough discipline and attention
to guide me slowly but surely
steady
or when i procure my own fantasia
blissed in my own imagination
anticipation
curiosity
of what satisfies your appetite.

These days you feel like a burden in my heart
Your mere image is now foreign
Pagan and
Obscene
I cannot bare to face you
I cannot bare to carry this weight alone
It's been days
Weeks
Your presences lingers
Unfaltering-
Never wavering
Refusing to
Drift away
Fade away from
My memories.
I cannot cry it away
I occasionally shed dry tears
I cannot eat it away
You eat at me-
Tear a pit into my stomach
I cannot starve it away
My cheeks hallow and i see your sunken in smile blinking back at me

i'm tied along the
seams of kyoko's bed sheets
laying there, frozen

is it okay to
want so much & work so hard
yet have so little?

i'll meet you on my own time
when i'm ready
although i may not know if that time comes

I am excessive
Like the incessant honk of the train blazing down highland
Like the rain when I've conveniently left my umbrella home.

I do not know how to form a balance
Organize chaos
Tidy the mess that is I

I gorge and tarry

Its times like this I be missing ne
Or his presence
The convenience
Instant gratification
Soul bareing
And that was all.

i swear i'll stop the i, i, i and me, me, me
i know it's like a broken record
flat notes and crooked chords
a walk of shame on my keyboard
i must know that the world does not revolve around mj
even when it closes in on me
kisses fresh trauma and scars so deep
nursing wounds that refuse to heal
i want to self pity
i want the validation
this is me opening my legs to the world
accepting that things will never go my way

in orange mound we sit on porches
the thin plastic legs of the chairs scrape the concrete
Spades
Dominoes
Neckbones
Chitlins
The sidewalk be scorching hot
And the mosquitoes be bothersome
We play loud blues
Drink Bud
Cuss
The oven and AC unit be hard at work
At constant war with each other
Like us over a game of 21.
I laugh and smile all too proudly
Cause yes I'm countrified
And yes I'm ghetto.
I'm the loudest and blackest there is.
You hear me before you see me
My voice enters the room before I
My body enters the room before I
And I likes it that way
Wouldn't do a thing to change it neither

i am a haiku
a forced alignment of thoughts
that make zero sense

thicker than water
how can i begin to wade?
or keep from drowning

I can't sleep
I blame it on the spiders
That wind thin intricate
Webs of thoughts
Through my head

off on a tangent
my thoughts in transient
racing and rushing

become so partial
to living that i become
impartial to death

i'll admit i don't sleep

there isn't room for it anymore

and i don't pray

for now i'll watch out for spiders

im itchy as ****
memphis rained on my braidout
and soaked my chancletas

maybe gods upset
or im a bad volunteer

i can't go away
disintegrate so finely
and settle like dust

love is not blind
it is selfish
it boasts
it cannot make up its mind
or admit to its faults
this is me loving me the only way i know how

i am the blues
the blues is truth
and i refuse
to let you steal
my truth before it reaches my tongue
my blues before i can sing it

i wish you could've seen me today.

i sat out in front of the library thumbing through old issues of food and wine

played miles hodges and zora howard in my ear

picked at leaves

and let the sprinkle of rain and tugging wind caress me

i stupidly imagined it was you gently patting my head instead.

my knees would attempt to give out in my walk around campus whenever your smile appeared in my thoughts

a grin widening from cheek to cheek

it creases your eyes and makes you look wise

older, i think.

also,

yesterday i said i wouldn't write any more love poems

and by God, i meant to have meant it

but what's a girl to do when you have a smile like that!

for now i read bits of my aldanov, cram accounting, shuffle from bed to the library, tutor, pray, and fast like a good girl.

no music, no friends, no sugar, no oversharing, and **** sure no boys.

i've been trying so long now to only care about the deen.

cocoon in the Qur'an, never miss or delay a prayer, never miss an opportunity to fast or do remembrance. and most of all don't desire!! especially something as silly as a boy from a different world, completely unmoved or disturbed at best by crazy ole ugly little me. i seriously want to just disintegrate into nothing. be nothing. do nothing but pray and read.

but every browning page reminds me of your skin. and the rain, your smile. i'm sorry. sorry that i'm here where you are. sorry that i'm so, so obviously enamored with you. sorry, that i can't hide it. sorry that i can't stop it. sorry that i can't do better. i'm sorry.

plagued by the dark past
i keep gaslighting myself
ready to forget

trepidation peaks.
this might be the truman show.
a full crowd watches.

I don't give a ****
About financial statements
How about we just...

i must have spiders eating at my brain or some ****
because at this point even english dont make sense
all i know is that feeling of paranoia
that shameful fear of the dark
and what awaits inside it

you completed me.
wings fragmenting through breeze,
your nafs' memories
locate where my honey seeps.
tarry and bathe
in this stream.
soak me in
golden hue
browning
blushing
blossoming
like honeysuckle do.
reap me
like i'm new.
sow depth
so fresh, so green brown earth blue.
and our fruit will bare true,
continual and carnate cycles,
like nature do.
and what am i
but the river's image
of you?

I would quote song lyrics or recite poetry but
This is not that kind of affair
More of a fantasy in my head
That spawns instant gratification.
I'm juxtaposed between my thoughts and the reality of the situation.
You
Behind the wheel
I wish you'd speed up so I can be alone and relish this very moment as lustfully as I please within the privacy of my bedsheets
But I'd like for you to slow down and let me enjoy the ride.
The view of your thick thighs
Spread and commanding every inch of space possible
How I wish for you to control me as well
Your smile cocky and your tone overlording
Are you doing this on purpose?
Tugging at my heartstrings and pooling like lava in the pit of my stomach
You're careless
How can you be so reckless?
One of these days I may act upon my hidden intentions
And no guilt will be present
No will
No preservation
No virtue
Just want.
Just pure desperation
To get your hands off the wheel
And onto my body
I'm surely more curved than your Suburban
More pliable and easy to the touch.
You wouldn't know if you didn't reach out and touch me
Take your eyes off the ******* road and meet my gaze
See that I mean no good
I'm a distraction
And have no qualms with making you pull over
To enjoy the ride.

Bursts of thoughts
Resting
Waxing
Waning
Hiding
Anxious to be materialized
Never seeing the light of day

matteus is sickly sweet.
residue on my thighs
and an ache in my teeth.
he is incessant on my mind
and absent from my bed.
part of me wishes him gone
part of me wishes to see him again.

I think of your hands
Dimpled knuckles
Dotted like staccato

I think of your smile
Teeth pearly
Waxen like ivory

I paint you in your glory
your brows furrowed together in annoyance
your surly gaze- ever mischievous and glassy
your eyes upturned like crescent moons

you are lunar, sweetheart.

vexed.
i moan and wallow
in the bitterness of my nafs
the part of me that wants you more than my next breath.
thinking
of what i'd do to you
or her.
punish you.
mindfuck you like you manipulated me.
make you rue my tears and insanity.
then i settle.
back into sadness- sober reality.
that you'll never be mine
and you deserve each other.
congrats.

each inhale becomes
more and more painful to pass
my lungs seize in shame