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Myaja Black Nov 2019
I’m not bound by religion
I’m bound by my moral compass
Laws of karma
Science says you get what you give
Naturally, my energy reflects such
So I’m cautious with whom I touch
Each transfer is significant
I can no longer afford poor exchanges
My spirit has gone through enough changes
The new me will be unrecognizable
Untouchable
The pieces will be placed back differently.
My puzzle has a new name
This one is a lot harder to solve.
It takes a real one to get to me
Only those of a true heart
Myaja Black Nov 2019
Its hard to describe someone as godly as him in mere words
But I will try
I will try because he deserves every thing
Everything that the universe refuses to give
She’s so stingy to my lover
I’m determined to make up where she lacks
Because nothing is more holy than waking up next to him
Myaja Black Nov 2019
Woman I am
Can’t you see
The way my hips move to their own beat when I walk
How I stop natural disasters when I talk
Planets lose their alignment when I bleed
And fall back into order when I succeed
Cuz female energy is even more attractive standing next to a black woman like me
Myaja Black Mar 2019
You get tired of pretending that someone is a good person
The fairytale no longer makes sense
The ink on those pages start to run
And Your hand cramps from writing "I forgive you " so many times
I was distraught
What would the world think if for once I frowned
Would they think I lost my crown
Would they think I was incapable of getting a new one
A minor setback
Enough to feed the birds
They love that ****
However this comeback will be enough to make the world tremble
And my happiness will resemble
What I used to write about only
This time it will be real
Myaja Black Mar 2019
I am becoming
I am becoming like a tree
deeply rooted but growing
towards abandonment
the rain that falls taste like solitude
and my leaves are breaking with every rain drop
I'm happy I promise
But I'm also becoming
im becoming like the sun rise that flowers need to bloom
I'm becoming like a black woman
whose been sheltered all her life
but refuses to be contained by
any more boundaries
She's fed up
The world is hers
I will stand like a tree deeply rooted
and proud like a black woman
And everyone will watch
me become
  Sep 2018 Myaja Black
Mikaila
It’s just easy for them
Isn’t it?
This couple on the train.
They walked on laughing together
Holding hands
And I felt that familiar something-
Not jealousy
Not envy
But...
Chagrin.
Astonishment.
Incredulity.
Incomprehension.
Looking at them feels like looking at one of those
Impossible pictures
Where the stairs keep going forever in a loop.
It’s just
Easy for them.

It doesn’t hurt anymore, that thought,
But thinking it feels so odd in my mind
When I can’t imagine loving someone without
Shame,
Without pain.
They fit.
These people,
They fit without having to carve anything out.
They fit without punishing each other.
They fit like puzzle pieces cut from the same board-
No worries, they just go together, and that
Is that.
They fit like
“Of course.”
Like breathing.
Neatly.
Simply.
Carelessly.

I can’t imagine what it’s like
I can’t comprehend it-
To fit
Somewhere
Much less to fit somewhere
With someone.
I am always trying to corset myself into this world,
Lungs burning,
Trying to remain small enough to squeeze by
Catching myself by the wrist to keep from reaching
For anything.
And if there seems to be a spot where I might be able to exist as I am

It is always

Occupied.

Like a shiny pinprick
That thought hurts-
Not like the others it is newly cut
And still ******.
The idea that maybe there is a home for me
And that maybe I was too late for it.

They’re laughing.
He says something clever,
Passes a hand along the small of her back
And she leans into it,
Smiling because she loves that he wants to touch her innocently.
They seem to exist behind glass.
Not for the first time I wonder
If I could just slip into that life
Like a drop into an ocean
I want it badly
I want it stupidly
And I examine all the parts of myself,
All the edges and cracks,
All the things I’ve worked so hard to protect and repair.
It is not a welcome sight-
I am not a home
I am like an old ruin
Full of murmurings and cold spots
Full of dusty sunlight.
I sigh,
Knowing the secret I keep so poorly-
That if I really had a choice to be otherwise
I would have already made it.

I couldn’t reach them if I ran for a thousand years,
They are too far away.
They walk off the train, arms linked
Talking about nothing
And I watch them go
Like a hallucination,
Like a mirage in the desert.

Her perfume smells like forgetfulness
And it lingers.
This is a poem about how it feels as a gay woman to see a straight couple on the subway.
Myaja Black Aug 2018
I built a flowerbed last night to soften my landing
                      because I always seem to fall  abruptly
                                My lover promised to catch me
                       He said Sunflowers are something to hold on to
                             So he puts his hands on my hips and
                              tightens his grip as I loosen my heart he feels me expanding
making room for all that he has to offer
                         Welcoming him in and welcoming him home
                       Cuz I've been away from my Sun for too long
                      You ever seen a sunflower grow without the light
     It's possible but I always find myself growing in the direction of his warmth
                                       He asks me how does it feel
                            cautious to make sure he's giving me enough
                                             I tell him I want it all
                  because who doesn't want a love without measure
A poem about my current love life.
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