why do we choose people
who make us feel anything but
whole
i am sugar crumb cookies
always left on the table
no one has ever wanted me
he has never been satisfied
he is a carnivore
always wanting more
hungry for the flesh of everyone
his appetite rockets when i’m not there
he cannot get enough sugar crumbs
he wants more
he wants all the crumbs even when they aren’t mine to offer
i am bent nails
patched hair
i cannot stop pulling my hair out
i am finger nail scrapes down my legs
he is angry
but not as angry as me
no one will know what this rage is
so let me ask you again
why do we choose people
who make us feel anything but
whole
because we allow them to let us feel anything but
whole
we think that feeling like our lungs are going to
collapse because we can’t catch our breath
is okay because we are used to it
but i’m sick and tired of finding crumbs that aren’t mine
i stand up and get the wobbling in my knees to stop
i grab the glass cookie jar and throw it on the ground
i think of leaving you a note on the counter
but i know you’ll forget
because you’ll be too busy
licking up all the sugar crumbs
that aren’t
mine

living in the sea of trees
filling my lungs
with sativa
so i can feel at peace

i am a field of
tragedy
a farm maze
mystery
i will never truly know why my flowers
get stepped on the most
killer with chemical criticism
i am a lonely
wishing well
but there will never be enough pennies nor
wishes
to fill the vast open space
of my hearts home
this cardiovascular *******
that throbs too much
to even want anymore
i don’t think you want me anymore
i’ve just been waiting for you to say it
waiting for you to
**** the field with enough fertilizer
that the next girl you’ll find
won’t even know what it’s like
to live in a garden as radiant as
mine

you loved me in the color red
told me my skin was made for it
you loved anger down my throat like
color compliments
coating the most insecure parts of myself
learned how to roll grass into wraps
it was always packed
thats the only way i could relax
molded the words “naive” into my molars
when i wasnt sober
made me melt with gullibility
it was a routine
like saturday morning tv
you hated being outside
i was in love with the trees
you were in another womans sheets
but you loved me in the color red
lathered me in rose incense
made me taste red
stained the color in my head
now i can only see your bed
fire passion
ignited by my love
now i know it was just your lust
zodiac compatibility
gold meddled for accuracy
this is a color factory
using oil pastels
smearing each other
with color coated feelings
you loved me in the color red
broke red wine bottles
over my head
until i bled
dipped your fingers in the pool of ink
and tattooed down my chest
i love you in the color red
but not when your dead
i love you in the color red
flushed away toxicity
into my red wounded heart
i forgot what made my heart mine
i’m taking her back fully
opening her to the color yellow
every morning
to opportunity
to self love
to happiness
to more hurt
full bloom
to the world
an abundance of guidance
swimming through my blood
spiritual whispers stamped
on my cartilage
a kaleidoscope of dreams
our future laid out in
mysterious coded octagons
bursting with beams of blue dreams
collections of doodles tattooed on my
journals spine
and a new color a new lover imagines me
floating on

my fingers are filthy
gutting the dirt from the earth out
buried memories
of the painful past
lashing out on everything and everyone
i am destroyed
i read once
that if you breathe and give your stress
to the
universe
it will take care of you
but mercury is in retrograde
just eating my insides
one
by
one
digging out of graves
is never easy
but being trapped in one
forever
is just as hard
im getting on my rocket ship
flying to mars

i want this flower to bloom.
i want the bees to **** the nectar out of me
like, a good morning kiss,
wet and addictive.
i want your fingers vined around my throat,
as I puff syllables of smoke out.
i want the hummingbirds to caress my ears in lullabies.
i want my stem to arch on the flower bed.
i want your hazel eyes to dazzle in mine.
i want the stars to constellate us under the moon.
i want to find you in these sheets of darkness.
i want to collapse on you like a sunset,
slowly and then all at once.
i want to end with the scream of a mandrake root.

i did this thing where i flushed all of the people and memories into a bottle
a bottle of gin
my dad used to tell me
you will forget everything
i watched the rip tide of *******
relationships
drag the things and people i thought
i loved the most
into a missing side of the ocean
no coordinates just space
thank you whispered my soul
i opened the chamber of gardens
welcomed new visitors in
smelt oils of lavand
as my mind wandered into a
psychedelic horror
at night corners open up in my dreams
enough to fill the carved puff mist with
walking nightmares
an apocalypse of creatures
who have forced my eyeballs open
took away sweet dreams from me
i don’t even say
sweet dreams anymore
i just let the bed bugs bite

The town of the grateful yet,
soon to be dead,
receive one last glance of the universe.
The radiant truth stills voices
and tranquilizes breath.
Eleven fireballs illuminate the moondust sky.

The grim sapphire hills wicket the town.
Is this the way to heaven?
This is the way to the stars.
The black tree's hair is a moussed flame,
a pin-point on the absent map.
An imaginary itinerary to starry night.

The orange crescent moon sings
lullabies to a silent town,
trapped in Bardo.
As the wailing spirit of death
slurps the brilliance from the stars.

Eleven stars, eleven souls.
Soothed gratefully to death
on a starry night.

a walk along
the water
sunrise peaking
over mangroves.
sea salt memories
of pedestrian
good mornings.
they smell of
sunscreen and naps.
never failing to
wave back.

Where is the market that makes Sunday?
That makes soul food.
What are the broken buildings?
With boys and street corners.
Stop signs plastered with milk cartons.
What are front porches, what are they?
Grandmas in a flowery silk dress,
You can smell ebony.
Children wrapped around Mr. Oniels house.
Mama is cooking Sunday dinner.
Where is the culture, it is here.
Skin is not skin,
Only a threat is a threat.
Styrofoam plates aren’t soul food.
Collard greens and baked beans
Are police sirens.
Funky blues blaring is a target on his forehead.
Only a blue and a red are a mug shot.
When the reporter asks where?
A neighborhood distinguishes it.
A neighborhood just distinguishes it.

how do i tell you about a girl
who does not even know
who she is

lost myself
in a whirlpool of *** and drugs
let my fat cells absorb it all
came down and crashed
bathroom floors covered
in me
a trace of forevers
stamped by the odor of
pheromones and detox
i have never wished to be dead so much
pinky promises that this was the end
walking on tight ropes
this acrobat could not even spell
balance
if she wanted to
get lost to find yourself
what if who you find
is just someone you want to cover up
hide her behind closed doors
one door closes and it stays closed
the acrobat remembers
why she locked the door
the first time
who gave you the key?
who let you into this barbaric aftermath?
the acrobat will do tricks along the rope
of nightmares
until she wakes up
awaken by the prince charming
she always wanted
the acrobat does not believe
she is worthy of a prince
there are no glass slippers here
just bruised feet
from the mountains she had to climb
to even find the castle
she wants to burn the castle down
set match to the architecture of this
imaginary home
fill it with flames
so they will never remember
who poured the fluid on this dream

We stopped at the corner of,
Tangerine street and Steveson drive.
We stood there, locked in the
Shackles of death, waiting for the
Next light of hope.

We shuffled across sidewalks
Filled with cigarette butts.
Neighborhood children riding broken bikes
To the orange grove, they knew there
Were no oranges left to be picked.
No fruit of Eden.

We watched them from the corner of,
Tangerine street and Steveson drive.
Our bodies colder than mamas icebox.
The gangs that run the circle pass Mr.Odie’s
Stopped by our corner, they offered us some candy.
We held our hands out for communion,
We chewed on the tainted candy of Eden.

The streetlights went off, we looked at one another,
Wondering if we were slaves of the system.
We bowed our heads in prayer that the ghetto
does not take one of us tonight.


We stopped at the corner of,
Tangerine street and Steveson drive.
We went our separate ways down the
Wicked streets of the hood.
Checking the shadow of death, following
Each one of us to the grave.

you are universal star dust
the universe needed a you on this planet
isn't that enough?
enough for you to keep spreading your light,
thru mother natures fortress

19 trips around the sun
I have conquered 6,935 days
burnt caramel skin hiking the nights
where I thought I would never reach Everest.
Lists of trials and tribulations laced
through my pantyhose
another trip all the way home.
Awake with the owls
scribbling poems and sketches
of the singing animals.
The buzzing of the bee kissing
the nectar of the new morning.
Another rebirth.
Another step closer until
this Arie burning goddess
can caress the sun.
A full embrace fire passion meeting star.
I have a star.
In a universe bigger than me or any problem.
I am a star.
Learning how to love and lift
the flowers in all gardens.
Planted in all different soils
but still will be sun kissed by my sugar lips.
A year of another chance to full bloom.
My petals open wide to possibilities.
A chance to unravel the hidden
petals of my mandrake.
To taste the juice of fruits
I did not know existed.
In a garden filled with wounded flowers
I will choose to love and honor this Eden.
To be a guru for those in need
of energy healing.
Using my garden therapy palms
to bless the scared soil of every
beaming brave being.
Coating their petals with lavender dust.
Relax my flowers I am here to love you
down to your roots.
A chance of courage.
I am warrior here to take on
the battle trips around my sun.
I will hold you in my palms.
Let your fire ignite
my dreams into realities.
Between sun and waxing crescent moon
I will chant the seven chakras.
Shout to my spirit guides
to take me on this adventurous ride
through the garden
under the sea
rocket ships to outer space.
Until I can make all my flowers believe
in this energy we hold in our stems
waiting to breath.
An inhale of tree and exhale of free.
We are flowers.
Dancing in the garden of life
Illuminating in the art of self love.
Be here with me in this very moment
as we embrace the
holy sun in gratitude.
Thank you for forcing me
to wake every morning
to triumph the days into the sunset
so that our fiery hearts can meet again
every April 8th.

when they say
you feel like home,
smile, welcome them
into your garden of youth,
but if they start plucking
your petals off
tell them it is time
they plant their own garden
some place else.

today i listen to "Switzerland" by daughter. the soothing hums of her voice melt my soul. i'm dreaming of sitting on a yellow porch wrapped around the home i want to own. i sip green tea as a fall in love with you. today i learn to not let hands hold hands but to let hands hold hearts. to let fingers intertwine with feelings. today i learn to kiss birthmarks goodmorning. and to kiss bruises goodnight. today i let you put me in the bathtub let the warm water make waves that crash on my skin. let you lather me in big blue bubbles of hope. today i pray the hope bubbles never pop. not because i want them to pop tomorrow but because you told me to live in the present not the future. i hope to buy you a present in the future. today i eat fruit loops because your tastebuds love sugar. and i hope the next time we kiss i'll taste like the sweetest sugar you know. today i throw aveda smoothing infusion in my damp hair and scrunch it around until i've crinkled every crisp perfectly. today i brush my teeth with crest whitening toothpaste. let the bristles capture every leftover crumb of those crispy colorful circles. today i slip on my denim black skirt with rips and pull the black abbey road tank top over my head and tie the once white laces on my black high top vans.  i brush a light gold eyeshadow over my fatigued carmel eyelids and swipe mascara on each of my lashes, i put my cartilage piercing in, then my two ear piercings and i hook my black hoop into my nose. today i don't dress for you. today i dress for me because i'm starting to want to maybe try loving myself again. i have so much love bundled in big brown blankets ready to be pulled off. i've given all of my love to you because i stopped loving myself. but today you made me want to try wanting to love myself again. today i feel more like a person than a speckle of dust. today i don't see myself as leftovers in the fridge. today i see myself as a fresh cooked meal i want to eat. today i walk out of the front door. hair half up half down, back straight, teeth shining, eyes glowing, tears streaming down my face because it's pretty freaking crazy when you want to live again. today i am not a ray of sun. today i am the sun and i hope to brighten my heart with a dose of pure vitamin D. today i wear a colorful crystal crown because victoria always told me she didn't care who i was but i was a *******  queen. today i place a vase on my kitchen table filled with sunflowers and daisies because roses are overrated. today i gather up all of the scraps of rage and sadness and build myself a castle of poetry. today i listen to "Switzerland" by daughter. the soothing hums of her voice melt my soul. im sitting on the yellow porch wrapped around the home i own. i sip green tea as i fall in love with you all over again.

the caramel skinned girl
looked at
the brown sugar skinned boy
and said this here baby
this isn’t just a watch
this is a promise
this is me promising to
count down every minute
with you
this is promising you that
one day we will stand
at an alter
exchanging rings and vowes
and most of all exchanging
unconditional love
pablo you’re different
you’re what i’ve been
waiting for but could
never really describe
because let’s face it
it’s pretty hard to describe
perfection until you’ve met it
and on may 22nd
i met perfection
sick raspy voice and all
and i still fell for you
i’m still falling for you
everyday
this time teller
that’s clings to your wrist
represents that i will
always cling to your wrist
that i will always be there
to remind you how much
i love you
that this soul cries out at night for
her brown sugar skin metaphor
that this body always wants
to feel your hands
and your lips forever
we are going to be together
forever
the caramel skinned girl
looked at
the brown sugar skinned boy
and said this here baby
this is eternal love

im still flushing the toxins out of my temple
ive been too scared to
allow anyone to stop by
their hands all remind of the
one who buried me alive

suppose you stop listening to your mother

you could say ******* to curfew.
suppose you tripped on shrooms
you would feel colors bloom.
suppose you birthed eggshells
the coop would have a new chicken.
suppose you read a book
you might learn some valuable ****.
suppose the sinners went to church
they could drink Jesus's blood for free.

the girl after will be
a bootlegged version
of me
she will never taste
like me and
i hope she writes
you poetry but we all know
her metaphors will never
erase the ones
i left stained on your lips

i'm sorry that my mom and you didn't work out
i'm sorry that mayias mom and you didn't work out
i'm sorry that paul's mom and you worked out
i'm sorry that i couldn't  give you friday night lights like he did.
i'm sorry i was born in 2000 because you missed more days with me than you did with them.
i'm sorry that sounded selfish
i'm sorry that you thought buying me books was better than actually reading them to me
i'm sorry grandma had to do the ***** work for you
i'm sorry that you thought money would be the only way to help her
i'm sorry if you think you've done more for me than her
i'm sorry that 1782 patricia avenue wasn't the ideal household for you
i'm sorry that the coffee color coated sofa  will never mount up to the scent of her bedsheets
i'm sorry that i don't attend the family vacations every weekend to riverview
i'm sorry your last name isn't on her little girls birth certificate considering she calls you daddy like your the only man she knows
i'm sorry she didn't get close with her real dad, i guess i can empathize with her
i'm sorry you missed my first day of kindergarten i would've loved to show you my teacher but she's in the grave now rest in peace ms. rossy
i'm sorry that when you got out i didn't recognize you as i sat on the creeky wooden swing with grandma it's just hard wanting to wrap your arms around a man you never knew
i'm sorry that i remember the long weekends spent at the mayo correctional institution than the long weekends we spent together in dunedin. oh that's right we never spent time together. but we spent money.
i'm sorry that when i heard your dad will pick you up from school the once missing two front teeth cute smile turned into a frown that began to sink into the ground
i'm sorry but being parked in front of the "spot" for two hours made me rather do my homework but my fingers began to shake as the ac blasted creeping its way into every opening of my applebottom clothing
im sorry that mary jane took the spot between your curled lips as she lighted up her smoky fire crisped in your lungs and crinkled your brain cells. who do i kiss good night, if your lips are occupied by rolled paper.
i'm sorry that mayia and i can't give you saturday morning haircuts at the shop like paul
i'm sorry paul don't think i'm mad at you. it's not you. it's never been you.
i'm sorry this face wears rage like an accessory
i'm sorry that you think yelling at mayia is okay. DAD that girl loves you so much she just wants you to pay attention to her. her mom won't give it to her. this little girl shines like christmas lights that i love to hang. she is the brightest thing in our room.
i'm sorry you couldn't see that your second child is giving you a second chance
i'm sorry grandma mayia and i can't give you the world like paul and tika
i'm sorry holly left because i really need her to be the mediator right now
i'm sorry that i thought you could help me with sort laundry i thought it was less work than scrubbing her ***** dishes as your hands pruned in your sickening silver soapy water, but i guess you like working for her
i'm sorry that we never got to have a relationship
i'm sorry it's too late i'm leaving soon
i'm sorry i have to get out of here pinellas county has filled me with a monotonous life style
i'm sorry but it's time to say goodbye to emptiness
i'm sorry that this family has felt broken since april 8th 2000. i guess birthday wishes don't come true
i'm so sorry that i haven't been able to string my broken english together to share this with you until now
i'm sorry you're probably upset and telling me how wrong i am but feelings aren't wrong they are emotions that i've been absorbed in and they are becoming oh so real for you now. take it in. take in the pain i've felt for 17 years. take in the faith i have in you that you can change. take in the love i still have for you. take in the broken heart that's been thrown on the ground way to many times
i'm sorry that i'm not perfect but who would want to be that's overrated
i'm sorry i wish i could've painted you a mural of mend
i'm sorry but mayia and i tried hard to fix things
i'm sorry but she's too scared to tell you she doesn't want to be dragged across the courtney camble after your late shifts on friday nights and maybe she does but it doesn't add up with her messages begging her me to come pick her up. mayia if you want to stay with them that's fine baby. i'm not mad at you. i won't ever be mad at you. i'm mad because even after the struggle with your mom toe let you see us he still ignores you because it seems like he rather have tikas body wrapped around his tatted arms than yours.
i'm sorry paul gave you more than we could ever offer we thought our soccer games could keep you around but then he started playing too. i thought my poetry would fix things but after this poem you're gonna hurt too
im sorry if you thought that was my intention. it's not. it's for you to realize that you have two daughters too
i'm so sorry mayia and i were never good enough for you.

i want to kiss you back
but im still trying
to kiss the roots of my own stem
watering this flower with tears
still waiting on her to bloom

i don't even know how to be sad anymore.
all i know is rage.
i know red knuckles burning because
i had to punch the kid in yellow jacket
hands
to melt the rage off of my soul
i just don’t want an angry soul
take my soul
i thought yellow was happy color.
i shouldn't have taken it out on him.
this is fingers tingling.
the bented M on the BMW sign
on my stirring shell
makes me where my anger with pride.
i shouldn't be proud that my fist got stronger.
the crack i made in the mirror in my car looks like the cracks in my rattling bones, that keep digging in the dirt in the graveyard.
why am i obsessed with
skeletons.
broken bodies and souls
need help too.
all of my cancerous thoughts
are molded to
each edge of my
gooey brain.
spilling out of my
temples making the
bottle of excedrin
open
too often