I wish I could be as vibrant and bold as a sunflower
Wish my petals could stretch towards the sun
in hopes of growing. I wish these pale painted
faces would stare in awh instead of disgust.
I wish I was as yellow as a sunflower
or maybe an oddly pink tone fleshed with red
I want my color to be praised not discussed
like dirt being picked out of fingers
I have come to the realization that I am a sunflower
Beautiful, bold, and magical
My brown petals stretch out from limb to limb
meeting at my bud with a smile so dazzling
and eyes small but fill with love and hope.
I am a sunflower in the boldest of ways possible
like coffee with no sugar no cream. I am loved like Jupiter
loves Juno, My brightness is appreciated like a full moon
at 12 midnight. I could fill a whole field with my petals
just for your grazing but you don't deserve it.
I am a sunflower. What are you?
I am a woman, a black woman
Never black and then woman or
woman and then black
but somehow when judgement is being passed on my race
they seem to forget I am a woman
A woman with emotions and feelings
I am a black woman with a mindset
to be greater then I am perceived to be
Because this black woman has goals
Is your ego abused? Should I apologize for not wanting to live as a trophy on your wall of women hung out to dry? Is your ***** hurting because I dare say NO? As if my ****** is the only cure for your savage behavior. Should I apologize for being female? A black female with curves so dangerous if I got wet you might slip and fall, breaking apart your massive ego?
Is your need for dominance anything out of the ordinary? Because men will be men and they don't deserve to be punished for being men. Right? Because I asked for it, Right? Because my shorts in this heated summer day is a plea to be ****** right? Because my ******* do not belong to me and if I dare go without a bra, it is seen as a neon flashing light signaling my readiness for your **** right?
Young boys sit back and watch in awh as Fred establishes his dominance over Wilma. They watch learning the ways of cavemen. this, these cartoons are teaching these young boys to treat women as inferior and teaching our young girls to know their place as a housewife with no say.
From the beginning we are taught that our consent does not matter. We are supposed to behave like a woman or get ****** and left out to die like trash lift for the raccoons to rampage through. From the beginning we are taught that our voices do not matter and men will be men. So therefore we must bend over backwards to accommodate them or be bend over backwards by them.
No wonder women are scared to speak out. I was afraid to speak for fear that my voice would be washed away with the tide never to return to it's bold state. Besides my friend, that one professor whom I sometimes think is too good for this world and the counselor she talked me into seeing. No one else knows.
No one else knows how my knees rubbed against the dirt laced with tiny rocks and sticks. Or how I cringed when his ***** exploded in my mouth leaving behind a taste so bitter, black licorice could not compare. Or how I could not get on my knees in the first place because the only time I got on my knees was to pray to a God I only hoped was listening. But where was that God when this boy put me down on my knees and told me I had to. Told me this was the only way of redemption.
That naive young girl was on her knees in the dirt because she did not know she could say NO. I felt as if saying no could get me hurt or worst ruin what fragile reputation I held onto and 14 year old me could not withstand the blow.
Within those 10 minutes it took for him to be pleasured, I silently prayed and prayed that God would let this boy know how wrong it was or will him to stop. I prayed to a God I was taught watches over all his children. To a God whom didn't care of your sins as long as you repent. But that God was nowhere to be found.
I held back my tears as my neck when back and forth like a chicken pecking at it's only source of survival. I didn't cry when I choked on it and gagged for air because within that moment he made himself my savior. He feed me my daily bread with a smile upon his face.
No one knew about this moment, how I held back tears when he told me it was good for my fist time. How I held a brave face when I climbed the bus that morning with a white stain on my purple dress. I told no one because I believed i liked it because my constant was not needed so I must have approved. Right?
So I ask you. Does me saying no to you damage your ego? Does my no mean nothing to you as if no means yes in the fantasy world you live in. My silence is does not enable you to go forth and conquer my wondrous lands. it is not permission for you cross my flooded seas and take refuge within me. I will not apologize for being a woman in charge of her body.
"Sometimes I wanted to be like momma because momma was beautiful with skin so golden and pure you would have thought she came straight out of a treasure chest. Her hair spiraling into tight curls hanging a top her shoulders and eyes so big and full of hope. She had curves that could cause an accident if not paying attention, this was her flaw, she was a cautionary tale reeking havoc on whom so ever crossed her path. she had those long fingers and shiny nails that gripped onto you just when you tried to pull away. Full pink lips that looked as if they held a thousand wonders. Momma was a star in her own light and she knew it, owned it with ever fiber of her being. "
This is an excerpt of a larger story I'm working on. This section is one that I have fallen in love with. Let me know what you think or if you want to read the full (unfinished) story.
between photogenic thighs
create esoteric muscle movement
that moves me inside.
Your parents are therapists,
and mine choose not to be alive;
the words they say
don't work for moments we hide.
Jesus Christ before the sunset rust,
if I'm so alive
then why do I lust
There's a place
where I'd like to drown
The water's warm
and thick in my lungs
and I'm no longer afraid.
Colliding with epinephrine,
your neck thrusts forward;
you kiss the steering wheel.
"Do you know
you mean to me?"
Your eyes meet mine
before disappearing in the glass mist.
I love you.
She was calling
I could hear it
She was so close
I could taste her breathe
Visualize her smell
My senses were tangling
Her form was breath taking
Her grasp on me was
Of another nature
I was of her making
Her lips were pale
The feel of them left me
In another dimension
Working the manors
Of her body
It wasn’t rational
It was somewhat
She required more
She couldn’t get enough of me
I was her craving
Oxygen was irrelevant
I was her
She was always livid
Moving with relentless emotion
Every time she danced
I felt a swipe of wind
Tear my face
Length to length
A smile made a path
I wasn’t happy with this
What I’d become
I was furious
I wish I could have said no
Her presence removed all illness
Unwillingly she was the puppeteer master
I was made of wood and had to be held
By her hands
She held the strings to my existence
I had let her cress me
Make me into the one she wanted
I let her do as she so pleased
But even that
Was no good
I had given up just
She had given all
I was thru
She had just began
I guess two opposites really do attract
I couldn’t get enough
Enough of her touch
I tried telling myself I was done
With these lies
These games we play
But I just couldn’t get enough
As much as I hate to admit it
I loved her
With everything in me
I loved her
You see that “loved”
Cause at some point I
I worked up the courage to say no
Ended those unpleasing nights
I grew tired of it all and finally said no
I wasn’t hers and she wasn’t mine
I was simply the fool she toyed with
At night, of course
Inside I missed her
And it grew and grew with great force
Until I wasn’t there anymore
There was none of me left to miss her
It mocks me
Stings me with its freedom
Gently breezes blowing behind the window
She knows I crave warmth
The way she smooth’s me
All I really need is her smile down upon me
Instead she taunts me with her beauty
I listen as tears fall from her eyes
If only I could comfort those lonely nights
Maybe than she wouldn’t forget my touch
She’s angry now
Storming down upon us
Her godforsaken children
I want to go out there
Tell her I still love her
But I’m afraid I might not withstand her wrath
Her anger is growing and the night sky is glowing
Her beauty is astonishing
But her emotions are disturbing
I just want to comfort her
She screams at me
Cursing my name