Monique

Monique May 2017

In him she sees peace.
She sees hope, happiness and an ocean of untold stories in which she have sunk too deep.
In him she sees love.
She sees his heart wrapped up in stiches, his hands covered in deadly goodbyes, his strength lying behind the muscles that strives to be tough.
In him she sees herself.
She sees her scars behind his eyes, her tears sunbathe in his skin, her insecurities fully cloth in his lips, and her heart which he holds the key.
Her past made her believe she would never find someone that will kiss her vulnerability.
Mesmerize by his personality that echoes sounds of joy, she lays on his chest drinking his thoughts.
Gazing in admiration, she found love and the battle between loneliness and sorrow was lost.
A reckless soul lost in the forest of abandonment and despair,
She saw her portrait of her soul running in fear.
Fear of happiness, the light at the end of the tunnel many wish to achieve,
Wretchedly to say a mind engulfed in darkness rather lye with the pain than to gain.
She calls them monsters.
Monsters that attacks her mind because the ones under the bed are too frightened to compete with the ones in her head.
As they chained her to the dissipation of happiness that she fonder he brought peace to the misery they once lead.
Within him is the reflection of her reaching the light at the end of the tunnel which lies in his heart.
He showed her loving her chaos of beautiful madness is not hard.
He sees disaster covered in flaws of perfection and continents tattooed on her skin.
He sees security handcuffed to her love which the room of trust was too dim.
He sees a heart of gold which he starved and feed on her soul being oblivious to her sin.
He made it known that loving her is his biggest win.
He’s aware of a portrait painted in dull markers but sees it as a beam of radiance and amazement.
He saw a heart that was caged as he looked pass the bars of mayhem finding it engaging.
He stares at her like a work of art and they paint their canvas of love that won’t ever be lost.
Incapable of expressing her admiration for him because her love isn’t confine to letters of the alphabets,
Her affection spilled on paper isn’t enough to describe her encounter with the best person she’s ever met.
Her smile became an epidemic that affected her face with numbness, her soul with happiness and her eyes with forever set.
Your actions made sure she knows her love is well kept.
You taught her that dreams do come true,
You caress her and cherish her in a way nobody else do,
Frankly to say,
She loves you.

-dpk

Monique Apr 2017

Insight

Please listen to me.
Weeping on my knees as my throat clogs with suffocation of phantasm,
I plead......
Please listen to me
Listen to the blood that drips from my mind enclosing the torture of self neglect
Listen to the poison that spills from my mouth that mirrors the monsters I've met.
Listen to the rope that hugs my throat as it kisses me with lies.
Listen to the gun wound with bullets covered in loath that pierced through my soul outcry.
Listen to the writing on the wall that depicts a fragmented soul demanding for the oblivious to be conscious.
Listen to the brokenness that glares from my eyes in despise.
Listen to the pills of escapism I swallow with a smile of wry.
Listen to a soul outcry.
My heart aches of desolation and despair,
Bottles thrown in every direction as the wall cries tears of blood in fear.
Furnitures dismantled portraying a shattered heart one cannot bear.
What's dear to me is incompetent, its sincerity is rare.
Strapped in a chair of agony with my mouth taped and my eyes covered
Heart rate accelerates and my body shakes
My ears is beaten with profanity, animosity and pitty.
Quivering in betrayal, dissimulating awakes
This is what it takes to survive every day.

-dpk

Monique Mar 2017

Confidence

It shadows a figure that's afraid to embrace their inner talents or undiscovered strengths
Fearful of the consequences of the planned mishaps and failed attempts.
It creeps in and traumatizes your character and demoralize your determination,
Sweat drips from your face, your hand soaks in fright and your body undergoes a burning sensation.
Starstruck in judgement and animosity,
Who knew that life came with a policy?
Emotions and faith consistently triggered by the inability of credibility
Eyes inflamed with tears while my mind attacks me physically
As it continue to haunt and knaw on my self esteem,
I now found the answer to why my efforts weren't deemed.
Thinking that maybe the criticism were the problem but the problem lies beneath a surface of glass,
A glass that won't allow a bullet to pierce through but enclose the demons that feed on the hope so it won't last.
Knees quivers, stumbling accelerates, panting starts to become a way of breathing,
Nervousness sinks in, failure feeds back and anxiety becomes the prominent feeling.
It's not the result that scarce the mentality, it's feeling that you're not good enough, it's seeking validation and disappointing yourself.
It's feeling worthless and useless and denying you need help.
The lack of confidence shadows a goal driven individual that misses out on opportunities in fear of not being enough.
The lack of confidence manipulates a talented soul that makes success become so rough.
Confidence become a puddle of melancholia with false hope and desired faith,
Stuck in a trans and the cycle begins again as I wait.
Wait on the moment to empower myself and encourage my abilities,
Turn my insecurities into security to soar for opportunities and amend unity.
It's time to stop waiting and breakthrough.
I believe in me.
I hold the key.
And I will let my confidence free.

-dpk

This is for the individuals with low confidence. Believe in yourself and break free

#happy #day #women #international

Monique Feb 2017

Who are you?

They warn you about heartbreak, love, pregnancy, std, failure.
They warn you about drugs and alcohol but outcasts an issue that's major.
Self-neglect , personality crisis.
Why don't they warn you about the capabilities of losing yourself?
Maintenance of good grades, fulfilling your parents wishes, studying to become something you're not even happy about.
They do not warn you of the consistent mental breakdowns questioning yourself in doubt.
Doubting if this is the correct path for you, doubting your purpose in life.
It's a constant battle between your mind and what you truly desire.
Yet the passion within you thats an array of fire,
Shadows and demoralizes itself.
The restless nights where my mind was a battlefield with constant chaos triggered my insecurities.
Already an emotional wreck there I was losing my sanity because the bigger picture was oblivious and I couldn't see.
Became so unconfident that my work ethic decreased due to my incapability of searching for me.
Why didn't they tell you how hard you become on yourself?
How your mind is your worst enemy and no one can help. That the only one that's degrading you is yourself.
Then they persuade you to chose a field that makes money. They brainwash you into thinking your passion is inferior and belittle your struggles of doing what they demanded you to do.
An outcry for help suppresses while pretending steps into the light.
Persistently interrogated myself,
"Who are you?"
As I look at a reflection covered in incompetence and solicitude,
"You are not defined by the comparison. You are not defined by their wishes. You are not defined by the ridiculed labels."
You are what you truly aspired to be even if your aspiration is still uncertain.
You pave the road of your happiness, of your dreams, of your passion.
Aspire to become true to yourself because you hold the key to your future and that's the only thing that's certain.
Just because it took you a longer time than others doesn't mean you didn't succeed.

-dpk

This is for the individuals that went/is going through an individual crisis because they're uncertain what they want to become in life

Jan 2017

Deontra' Demeritte

;

If I had to describe myself,
I would say...

I'm not just the 50+ scars
from blood-stained razors
on my left arm;

I'm not just the countless tears
I cried when I pleaded
with your deity;

I am ";"

";" is never-ending.

I am ;
because my story doesn't end here.

I am ;
because I am forever evolving.

...so until
"."
arrives,
I am ;

This is probably my most simplistic piece but ironically one of my most inspirational once you understand the concept of the semi-colon. I got the idea from http://hellopoetry.com/takemeaway/ (Alexia Cousineau).

#love #suicide #sad #life #thoughts #strength #inspiration #suicidal #self-love #inspire

Jan 2017

Deontra' Demeritte

Journal Entry #4 Black Magic

Black girl roots.
Black girl magic, stemming from their black girl roots.
From their magical skin, full lips and hips, beautiful roots of their hair
Is the genetic anatomy of a black female that incomprehensible?
Full lips on display lined with collagen filled comments,
the peanut gallery of social media filled with distasteful outrage by the same things they inject to achieve yet,
riots on social media streets over the distasteful cultural misappropriation of all that is black yet,
It's distasteful to live somewhere, to live here, beautiful islands bathed in sun and filled with black people that aren't even conscious of their background...that aren't conscious of their 'blackness'.
To be so ashamed of their blackness. Their very roots.

Ashamed of their roots.  What a time to be ignorant Trevor.
Black History Month is now, yet there’s a rampage to eradicate the very aesthetics of blackness rather than appreciate them.
Dear colonialized principal of C.R. Walker High School, quit.
Dr. Claudius Roland Walker, the school’s namesake, built a hotel for blacks who were being discriminated against and
I imagine he would build a coffin for your revulsion of all things black,
We’ve moved past your self-hate and the disdain you have for your very roots.
Black hair is beautiful and can never be unkempt. Let me say that again.
Black hair is beautiful and can never be unkempt.
Black hair is a statement that you and nobody that inhabits
this dying planet has the authority to deem untidy or inappropriate.
It took our ancestors far too long to comb through fields of complications
the root being wearing their natural hair and through natural hair movements
to have some nescient minded leader deem it disheveled.
Our roots have permitted our black skin magic, we absorb the rays of the sun,
magicians, and for my final trick, watch my skin glow like gold
dripping like wet paint onto a canvas of unfinished art
left behind by our old souls.

Oh my black people,
a juxtaposition of media sensationalism led by governmental lies, descendents of slave owners insisting that our black hair is something to be ashamed of,
it seems we have our heads so far up our own *****
we're getting too used to the essence of sh-t.
Then the chant goes up, the battle cry,
"This isn't the United States, there's no misogyny, there's no racism, there's no-"
Shut-up.
"Are you angry?"
No, I'm black and I'm angry!

Our mindsets rooted in the prevalence of self hatred, leaves of mighty oaks desperate to remove themselves from their very roots,
requesting emancipation from the very ones that have us enslaved,
begging to be cut loose from the European hand
consciously and subconsciously unshackling the left as we tie the right.
but where are you going?
When has a plant ever survived without its roots?
How dare we neglect the nutrients our ancestors left behind and chase the suicidal pesticide made to eradicate our total being?

Dear god if you're listening, as the cry of former sages went up I also cry,
emancipate yourselves from mental slavery and take me back to my golden home,
where I belong.
Take me back to the very roots I am taught to be ashamed of,
so that I may feel the energy of what once was.
Take me back so that I may cultivate my roots. Take me back so that I may live to tell the truth.
Just take me back.
My people deserve the truth as I find them in the lie,
smearing the proverbial “creamy crack” on hair and skin,
My people deserve more than a painted picture of Cesare Borgia Son Of Alexander Pope 6 as Jesus.
My people deserve to know that Jesus was black and that the Catholics were snakes in the grass abusing their power during their time of reign. Uh oh, the snaps got quiet.
Oh but my people deserve to know that perceived infallible Bible they see today has been edited and destroyed to hide the secrets. Why?
When mama and grammy worship pictures of “Jesus”, why wouldn’t white be right?
Jesus in the pictures mama, he’s a white man, he has straight hair, he’s the savior,
aren’t we supposed to be just like him?
but
Little black girl with your, black girl magic and your,
magical skin, full lips and hips, beautiful roots of your hair
your crown, your skin, is beautiful. Your roots are strong.

Got excellent help from a friend named Gail on this piece.

#poem #poetry #sad #life #mental #black #female #journal #racial #bhm