I hate you
When you smiled, I smiled
I wanted you to be happy

I hate you
When you were successful, I cheered
I always believed in you

I hate you
When you're dressed up, I gasp 
I am taken by you yet again

I hate you
When you grew, I admired
I knew you were meant for more

I hate you
When you moved on, I stayed
I am always waiting for you

I hate you
When you faded away, I cried
I will only be a memory to you

I hate you
When you were in my life, I knew
I truly did love you 

I hate you
Despite everything, I begged 
That I could actually hate you

Ok, there’s no jailbreak.
Make room for my innocent alter ego,
because there’s nothing to rebel against.

There are zero classes in my nascent,
year-long, Harvard master’s degree.
They call it ‘self directed study’
and like rockets have stages,
I’ll have ‘self paced modules.’

Am I suddenly at Oxford University?
They’re quite famous for that (no formal classes).
Or am I suddenly grown up and trusted?
I obviously don’t have it all figured out yet,
so I’ll just trust the process.

When I started that other school
(that shall not be named), my advisor
handed me a computer printout - a list
with something like 40 courses on it.
I thought, “Oh, my God,” but one by one,
year over year, I checked-off those courses
and walla! They handed me a diploma.
It was a process.

I understand, if you’re disappointed about the jailbreak, but there’ll
be coffee breaks, lunch breaks, study breaks, bathroom breaks
and more than a few self-directed dance breaks. So stick around.

“You know,” my therapist said, so very seriously, a few years ago,
“you keep laughing.”
.
.
I've Got the World on a String by Robin McKelle
****** Soul Picnic by Ledisi & Billy Childs

I woke up to the rose colored glasses being welded to my head. The pain is excruciating and i can’t remember, but according to the paperwork i asked for this. I willingly walked into this life. I refuse to leave. Why would i? Each time reality catches up to crack my perfect view, it’s fixed without me ever having to even ask. I try to see through the break. Please don’t think your other life goes unnoticed. I’m more aware to the deep and dark reality than you’d think i am, but i prefer to ignore it when I’m around you too. Our world is so much better. We’re on a downward spiral, in every way imaginable. I have never felt more safe. I have never felt more cheated in all my life. Why couldn’t you forewarn me just how good deception would taste laced with your spit? Some type of heads up that i’d become addicted to the way we feel skin on skin. if we can make it down this far, why couldn’t we go up too? It wouldn’t be easy, all of this has been so difficult. You’d only have to want to.

Velvet echoes in these faded places,
Plastic smiles on porcelain faces.
Whiskey tears in crystal glasses,
Dead-eyed queens and faded masses.
And it’s eerie, but oh, it’s sweet;
My dying dreams feel most complete.
Masking my hurt behind the glamour,
No more dawn and no forever.
Hard to voice, too numb to break,
I'm dancing in circles putting the F in ache…

Digamos que te alejas definitivamente
hacia el pozo de olvido que prefieres,
pero la mejor parte de tu espacio,
en realidad la única constante de tu espacio,
quedará para siempre en mí, doliente,
persuadida, frustrada, silenciosa,
quedará en mí tu corazón inerte y sustancial,
tu corazón de una promesa única
en mí que estoy enteramente solo
sobreviviéndote.

Después de ese dolor redondo y eficaz,
pacientemente agrio, de invencible ternura,
ya no importa que use tu insoportable ausencia
ni que me atreva a preguntar si cabes
como siempre en una palabra.

Lo cierto es que ahora ya no estás en mi noche
desgarradoramente idéntica a las otras
que repetí buscándote, rodeándote.
Hay solamente un eco irremediable
de mi voz como niño, esa que no sabía.

Ahora qué miedo inútil, qué vergüenza
no tener oración para morder,
no tener fe para clavar las uñas,
no tener nada más que la noche,
saber que Dios se muere, se resbala,
que Dios retrocede con los brazos cerrados,
con los labios cerrados, con la niebla,
como un campanario atrozmente en ruinas
que desandara siglos de ceniza.

Es tarde. Sin embargo yo daría
todos los juramentos y las lluvias,
las paredes con insultos y mimos,
las ventanas de invierno, el mar a veces,
por no tener tu corazón en mí,
tu corazón inevitable y doloroso
en mí que estoy enteramente solo
sobreviviéndote.

I don't sleep anymore.
I can almost see
god seeing
a child.
My stomach remembers every olive.
I have two phones
but no favorite.

She asked me
If I had ever been
In love

Then I
Realized that I
Had never not been
In love

I realized
I  wanted
Nothing  
Other than love

I think there is
Only one
Off-ramp
From the journey
Of love

That off-ramp
Is judgment

A critical heart
Combined with
A critical eye
Fills one with
The opposite
Of love—judgment

Judgment colors
The mind with
Negativity

Until the sin of
Judgment
Is displaced
By a lust
For love,
One will not find peace

When love invades
One’s heart
The body finds peace

When love is abundant
And bountiful
There is no fear
Of wasting love
Nor spilling love
For love can grow
Anywhere

So am I
In love?

Yes, I am
In love
Excessively
Wastefully and Willingly

I want to be the pillows
& not our
12 or 3
the window stays open
& It’s just
you and the sheet
the light always
goes out
just like I’ve got two thumbs
two bugs and a poem
too many
nights on our phones
maybe I’m too
dumb to say it
maybe just
desperate to
count sheep
I’m making up
colors for summer &
kissing you in
my sleep

A woman still feels beauty even without seeing her reflection.

Like a Pool Frog
at a dry river bed.
Like the flow
of a water garden
in the dry season.
I am stilled.
I am struck dumb.
I am Walpoled.

I tried to believe, so often
That everyone just needs time
To change
To come back.

I tried to believe, so often
In sweet words
That promised
The universe would make room for us.

But day by day
The more I tried to believe
The harder it became to ignore
You never truly wanted this.

This is not hate
Perhaps, it's exhaustion
Tired of all the questions
That never found their answer.

And I think
This is enough
If we never set sail
Perhaps we were simply never meant to be.

A man goes to a doctor—
“Doctor, I’m depressed,”
the man says; life is harsh,
unforgiving, cruel.

The doctor lights up!--
The treatment, after all, is so simple!

“The great clown Pagliacci is in town tonight,”
the doctor says,
“Go and see him! That should sort you out.”

The man bursts into tears.

“But doctor,”
he says,
“I am Pagliacci.”

when pain turns to gift
gift turns to share
the spirit of Jesus
has broken through.

Your words were small,
but they split me open-
quiet knives
dressed as truth.

I carried your words
like glass under skin-
invisible,
but cutting every time I moved.

Every syllable,
a small death I swallowed
just to stay close.

I bled in silence
so you wouldn’t hear
what you’d done.

I’ve never healed right
from the sound
of your voice
telling me
I wasn’t enough.

•###•

•the•message•is•so•phantom•

•strangled•
•during•the•thir­d•act•

•illuminated•
•letters•are•the•ciphertext•

•and•they•glo­w•
•in•your•eyes•
•Bletchley•Park•

•Turing•
•worked•it•out•with•­
•Delilah•

•they•killed•for•less•
•died•for•even•more•

•###•

World in chaos
life must go on
I planted tomatoes this morning

It’s not the heartbreak that screams.
It’s the silence that follows.
The way someone becomes a stranger
while their memories still live in your chest.
How they laugh with others the way they used to with you—
and you pretend it doesn’t sting.
You act okay.
You smile.
But inside, you're mourning someone who’s still alive,
just no longer yours.

She listened as her eyes were going to close.
She longed to listen and see her fellow poets.
The New York soul needed to say Goodnight.
The City never sleeps but she does
Her pens and notebooks at her side on the night table
Pleasant dreams HP til next month

There are many words I wish I’d said,
while I still had the chance,
so many things we said we would do,
but we ended with only a glance.

I don't know you yet,
and I'm already falling in love.

I've thought about expressing you,
but I don't have time,
I'm describing you in verse.

I spent 100 letters on your eyes,
58 on your hair,
and 76 on your smile.

Let's not even talk about your intelligence,
charisma, and tenderness.

I write and describe you,
and then I remember.

That each verse,
is a manifesto,
for the universe.

I’ve never been good at asking for what I need

when I do, I fight myself every step of the way

it doesn’t seem to come out right—
or maybe I just don’t say the right words

maybe I’m not being seen or heard

is there a misunderstanding,
or do I feel misunderstood?

I don’t know—
maybe it’s all in my head

what I do know is that I don’t have the energy
to fight to be seen

maybe I’m just being dramatic

maybe I feel rejected

I don’t know if that’s sensitivity, or if my feelings are actually valid

I feel a missed bid for connection

I feel as if I am giving more than I am receiving

at times, it feels as if there’s no reciprocity

I desire, want, and need
to not feel so alone with another human being

I don’t know if I’m being irrational with this,
or dismissive to myself

I have an intense want to avoid and withdraw

I don’t know if I’m just being sensitive

I just wanted ten minutes of time, and it seems as if there’s no time at all

I expect myself from others
and let myself down when I don’t receive that

maybe I have unrealistic expectations of others

maybe I am asking for too much

maybe I am just being sensitive.

Missing the person that use to be free
Not a care in the world just getting by
Before heartbreak life seem promising
Chasing moments living experiences
New encounters an empowering reward
Breaking away from the boring routine
Cutting off toxic tired of condescension
Called deceivers out demanding the truth
Turned away onto new away with the old

all days are a sum of your life
             your life listens from future
     old's shadows
             present this moment
             obstacles become huddles
possible's impossible
                this day.

I gasp, for breath...fading away, below you
helpless, beneath the deluge, of you.
Heat rises, and steams, a rosy flush,
into pale, cold cheeks...
as you waterfall above me,
and I turn my face up to you, in gratitude.

I am a dry...arid flower...
dominate me, with your downpour.
Keep me moaning, in little, breathless gasps...
drunk, on your deluge,
lusting, for the gentle, seething weight,
of your measured, eager touch...
so thirsty, for your rain,
as you slick parted lips, in waves.

Slowly...almost painfully
I ache, and writhe
as you pour over me,
and I gulp, hard,
against your hot embrace.

Mmmmm...lover...caress my bare skin
stream, relentlessly
across the peaks, and valleys
of my dripping, naked body.

I'm so wet, beneath you.
Every dance of droplets,
across these spreading hips,
and long, feminine legs...
every prolonged, whispering touch...
every sweet, steaming kiss,
steals my breath away,
and leaves me shuddering,
quivering,
groaning, helplessly,
beneath the lick of your warmth
across these rounded, fleshy cheeks.

I die, a little more, each time
you wash over me,
As I drink you in
...unashamed of the little pool,
you've got forming beneath my bare feet,
and tightly curled toes.

I'm...drenched,
tingling, from my head,
to my toes...
soaked, but satisfied,
beneath the incredible force, of you.

...I just can't get enough, of you.