i think just recently, i have embraced
mysexualitymyconfidencemylooks
me.
according to men, my *** is the right size,
some want to dive into my eyes and drizzle honey
on my cinnamon toasted pores.
(i am more than these hips, this hair that sometimes wants to
curl like a lion’s mane)

but some (most, you) want to paint pictures and
flick sweeten vowels thinking all i am
is how wet my flowers can
become. how tight my skirt can be
before someone sees the muscular thigh and then blame me.
me.

because, let’s be honest, it’s always her fault

isn’t it?

for once i want a man to not be an animal,
be proud of intelligence and the ability to read until sun kisses their
tired fingers.
i want a man to be able to cry at the sheer beauty of music and art.

i want us, women, human beings, to be able to stand up,
wear whatever the **** we want, and scream.

Only four more days until it starts again
A new hell
Filled with new people

I can't wait to see all the eyes
Judge me from head to toe
I hate new people

They give you one look
And think they know
Everything

But in reality
They don't know
Anything

i opened a text
and then i cried
today.

because the "heeeey :)"
that my bestfriend sent me
isn't a
"let me see
if you're ok"
it's a
"please watch my kid so i can hang out with my boyfriend."

and i
know that you're really happy
that he's made you really happy
but i am so unhappy
and you don't even know
because you don't even ask
you only text me last
minute
and you know
i'll do it
i always do it
because i want you to be happy
but sometimes i want to
be happy
too.

August 4th, 1992
That night
My heart began beating
To the rhythm of
Two words
Samantha Shea
My baby girl
She was 9 pound 6 ounces
Of pure love and joy

Her mother’s eyes
My ears
But her smile
Was all her own
She seemed almost wise
Just staring blankly back
At me
Like she knew me
Better than I knew myself
I have never loved anyone
So much

I tried to give her all I could
Make her feel like a real princess
Make her feel safe
And loved
She grew up with things
Her mother and I
Only dreamed of as children
But she was never selfish
Never unkind

I never knew
How much she hated herself
Until I noticed that her arms
Made her look like war veteran
And her eyes
Like those of a ghost
A lost soul wandering around
Lost and Suffering

Could it be that hard
To be a teenage girl
Could it be that hard
To have everything
Handed to you
Everyone love you

That night I saw her as
Nothing but selfish and unkind
I mean how could she do this to us
To herself
I looked her in the eyes and asked
Why
With a single tear running down her face
Resembling a winter’s first snowflake
Or a desert’s first raindrop
She let out the words
“I wasn’t meant for this world”
No you were meant for me
You are my world

I wanted to wipe her tears
And heal her scars
Her years of fear and self-loathing
Was no match for my love
My compassion
My understanding

I spent the next two weeks
Helpless, lost, and confused
By the time we had found her
The bath water was as cold as my heart
The floor stained with drops of
Complete sadness
No note
I cried until I was
Red in my face and
Blue in my heart

A parent should never
Have to bury their child
So we had her cremated
We figured that
She spent 16 years
Stuck in her own box
She shouldn’t have to be
Buried in one

I’ve never loved anyone
So much