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Tanisha Jackland Oct 2019
They say my black
is not pretty
as if my hair is
not the color of the
night that holds
the moon in
all her silvery glory
as if dark
doesn't heal
the wounds of an
oppressive Sun
as if my eyes
aren't deep enough
to capture
a kaliedoscope of colors
as if my skin
doesn't glow
luminescent
soft enough to
inspire you to sleep
to dream up another world
with my wings
an opulent black
like a mirror reflecting
the whole wide world.
Tanisha Jackland Sep 2019
These are my crone days
made my way towards
a sweeter death
I can always feel his chill
kiss my dark skin
tried to shed my youth unhurried
I peeled off all the layers
that were remnants of a falsity
that didn't serve me
I'm almost at the core
finding out the old pain
doesn't live here anymore
Getting old is a good thing. No worries just freedom and God.
Tanisha Jackland Sep 2019
We are not so fortunate
striving for arrogance
leaving us armor-less

no warning of
our decay
the morals

Are we so hollow
and rotten to the bone

Do we have bones
and is our hatred
fortress enough
I live among ghosts
Phantoms
They keep calling me
I walk by memories
Old haunts
I touch them ever so slightly
Carved through years of life
There are spirits
Vapors of life
I feel them touch me gently
They hover above
They watch everything
They listen to everything
They know everything
They are always there
I see remnants of where they were

I live among ghosts
I feel them
I can’t escape them
Everywhere I turn
Everywhere I look
I feel them
Echoes of them

I feel them in the air
I feel them in thoughts
I feel them in faces I see
I live among ghosts and memories
I am in spirit land
Tanisha Jackland Sep 2019
They are leaving.
for we were not the
keepers of the Earth
with our unsustainable ways.
We were at best very
bad neighbors or
thieves really
war mongers perhaps
but greedy nonetheless
We were just too ****
obnoxious to hear them wailing
to catch them
to mend their welted wings
too **** arrogant
for this Earth
for kindness
for compassion
or empathy
They have left.
For we were too
engrossed in our
selves to see their songs
warnings written on the sky
Tanisha Jackland Aug 2019
Truth teller
Truth teller
what will
you tell
will your tongue
be a sweetner
a luminescent pearl
or will it be a flame
to burn down the world.
Tell the truth.
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