When Jesus walked away from my i didn't care
In my life, he had never really been there
Just a force I confessed to once a week
I didn't miss his prescence

In my life, he had never really been there
Like a deadbeat daddy who never cared
I didn't miss his prescence
He's departure hurt, but not enough

Like a deadbeat daddy who never cared
He let mother, brother, sister fall
He's departure hurt, but not enough
He was never there to begin with

He let mother, brother, sister fall
I don't think he ever cared or loved
He was never there to begin with


I don't think he ever cared or loved
In my life, he had never really been there
Just a force I confessed to once a week
When Jesus walked away from me I didn't care

He’s not like the others,
he’s not even a wholly likable child.

I mean, he has the cute face
high squeaky voice
chipmunk cheeks.

It’s his personality,
his attitude,
it’s the fact that he’s only 7 years old
and already hates the majority of what he’s seen of this wide world.

It’s the fact that he manipulates everyone’s words
until he’s made the collage that meets his ideal visage.

He’s more than a handful.
He’s even more than a whole village’s armful.

And though I know a part of its’ the diagnosis
it’s hard to keep that in mind
all the time.

(It’s hard to forgive an unlikable child)

Even harder as he swings insults your way,

as you have to take off running after him for the nth time this week.

It’s hard keeping a straight face,
keeping the unflappable demeanor
through every offense.

It’s hard not to scream,
curse,
cry,
  to remain the calm island in the face of the raging tempest.

But you have to.
(Even though he’s not the most likable child)

He is still a child.

And you’re loving compassion is stronger than his self destruction.

Home was
the sound of the djembe
As the beat of the cowbells
Joins the grooving melody
Filling the world
Black girl braids
Flying
And jiving
Feet bouncing and flouncing
Create a music of their own

Home was
the timbre of the chop saw
As the purr of the transformers
Joined by the flare of the drill
Screamo blares
Loving
And teasing
Voices filling up the room
The family dinner song

Home was
The Bumble bee tuna
As sung by tone deaf voices
And endless refrains
Fill in the void
That was never open
A harmony
And chorus
Of Wandering pitches

Home was
The aroma of a chai latte
As fresh air hit our faces
Joining the snickerdoodle scent
a lunchtime escapade
music blaring
heat blasting
laughs trilling


(Stanza Break)
Home was
The feeling of love
As you walk into your family
Join those you
love
those you
cherish
and feel
safe

You tell me I should y'all
Text y'all
In those dark moments

But the **** am I supposed to say?
That I can't call you
Because
I am terrified of the condescending tone you use
That you think I can't hear
But will stay with me far longer
Than the attack?

And sometimes I feel I can just sense the judgement coming up cc you
as you look at my life
And don't see the pretty *** how on it

Should I call you back
After ye feelings have passed
To tell you how *******
bad I feel interrupting your
Previously scheduled program
For my break down?

Should I call you just during the major ones?
Or the mini ones that hot during the day
Should I add you on speed dial
For the six or seven times I'll call?

Should we make a schedule
Like the nurses do-
Who's on call
For the M train emergency tonight?

Should I tell you that 30% of the time at my therapist
Is spent deconstructing
Your reactions
To my actions?

No?
Cool.
Let's carry on as per usual then.

These pop song nowadays
They talk about wanting to *******
To twerk with you
Wanting to take you home
And do violent thing with you

But that's not what I want

What I want is to have you next to me
To know I can rely on you
I want to know that I can call you
At god awful hours at night
Just to talk
(And you'll only be minimally upset)
I want to snuggle to you
While rent plays on the tv
I want to rest my head on your shoulder
When it's too heavy for me to carry

But above all
More than anything

I want
to hold your hand

You don't know me
You know my name
You say oh to me once a day
You know I live down the hall
You know I get cold easily
I told you myself
You know I love tea
You always see me with a teacup
You know I love music
You hear the wide variety I listen to
You know I love loud music
You can hear it from my room
But you don't know me
You don't really know me


I don't know you
I know your name
First and last
I know you love that red sweatshirt
You were it almost every day
I know you like cider
I see you pass by making it
I know you smoke late at night
I pass you on my midnight walks
I know your best friends
I hear them pounding on you door
I know you get cold
You told me yourself
But I don't know you
I don't really know you
But I would like to

There is this expectation
that when a black women feels
injusticed
she should do something radical
sit on the wrong part of the bus
hide justice in her basement
write a song
author a war inducing book

The truth is though
when a black woman
when any woman
feels the world against her
she wants to cry
she wants to scream
she wants to act impulsive

It is unfair to ask me to stay calm
as my gender is belittled
to sit still
as our mental states are questioned
to not want to scratch out some eyes
or start our own ****** war
when our skin color starts to offend

I want to cry
I want to scream
I want to start my own personal war
you don't know me
you don't know who I am
you don't know my pain
so don't you dare tell me how to manage it

My 'Native' tongue

You tell the class
that my brother and I
speak in our
Native Tounge at home

You make it seem
as if there is a hidden languge
my race hide inside our homes
our streets

The way you make it out
Blackness is a secret club
and to join
you must know the code

But let me explain something,
When I speak to my family
I speak with the same education,
with the same **** accent
and cadence than I do with my white brothers

I am not putting up any act of being more than I am
just because I'm with you white folk,
Except maybe when I talk to white folk like you
because then I have my child friendly gloves on
because there must be something
really ****** stupid with you that you would say to
my face that I am putting on an act when talking to my 'betters'

Lady, you aren't any better than I am
If anything you seem a little stupid in the head
Because to let yourself think you know anything
about the life of an African American woman -

When you grew up in a rich *** neighborhood
and have never had to deal with people treating you as
a lesser race because of the colour of your skin-

Woman I had no idea people could be that out of touch with the world around them.

You say I speak to my daddy with a certain lilt in my tone
because I can but away the act I'm playing day by day
because i has to be an act, doesn't it?
I can't just be an woman with dark skin who cares
about the world she lives in,
who wants to learn all she can to help those around her,

That act has to come with a costume that I hang up at the end of the night
makeup that gets smeared off and run down the drain

You say I speak to me mama at home with
shortened sentences,
accents and s's where they shouldn't be
In a loud voice that the white folks down the street can hear

But let me tell you one thing,

My mama is white, *****

the first time you walk down the street
and young girls
grown boys
cross the street
to get away from you

the first time you go to
Best Buy
and you notice
security following you

it’s the first time a crime
you have no clue about
is instantly pinned on you

the first time something goes missing
and they search your backpack

the first time you’re asked
to empty your pockets

the first time a friend
is told to take care
when around you
and maybe pick better friends

It’s the first time you realize
that you are the
danger
parents warn their children of
just because
the colour of your skin
that really burns

The curtains are closing
And it’s time to take
our final bow

A six year show
A six year partnership
A six year commitment
Finished in seconds

All we gave
to this old theatre
to these old arts
and this is it

We’ve given our love
We’ve given our blood
We’ve given our sweat
We’ve given our tears
We’ve given ourselves
We've given everything

And this is it
The curtains are closing
and this is it
it’s over
it’s our final show
our final bow

In another life
I am some bodies lover

Not wife, not girlfriend
Lover
The one he crawls to in the middle of the night
The one you hide away
The one you hold when you're  to tired to deal with all the baggage at he
And I am okay with this

Our stories intersect one day as I was walking in the fog
In an outfit 'sluttier' than I had anticipated
He's out there on the road
Trying to escape his same old home
And he sees me
He recognizes me

The same can't be said for me
I've always been bad with faces and places

But you see me
And walk up to me
As I'm walking to a cafe on the street

We'll return pleasantries
And then ill recognize you
You'll  walk me to my car
Even though I'm determined to walk alone
(Always too determined to walk alone)

I lean in
to hug
You lean in
for more
And I go along because that's me nature
And why the **** not

You'll call
Even though I didn't give you my number
We'll meet in hazy cafes
Dreary bars
All the the places your wife won't go
All the the places that seem like my second home

On our fourth meeting you'll hold me too long
Swear to yourself it's not anything more than longing
You'll doubt our arrangement
I'll be too strung out to see your internal battle
And you will see me
In that moment
As the broken thing
As the special project
That only you can fix
The mess
The that only you
Can hold together

I won't care about the ring line on your finger
You won't care about the *** you see on my kitchen table.
(Or the needles in my bathroom)
You won't care that I open the door in tears
I won't care that you can't stay the night
(But we both really do
Care
About everything)

You'll break down and tell me you love me
Even though you know it's the last thing I want to hear
You tell me
But I refuse to truly
Hear it

It comes through the too short grapevine that she want kids
And that's the notch that hits my trigger
Because children are the one
True innocence
Left in the world
And the second a minor enters our play
Is the moment I make my final exit

You lose me
Because I won't be found
You'll knock on the doors of my dealers
Call the family who turned their backs on me too long ago

I'll try to get it together
(And mostly fail)
I'll listen to too much Carole King
(Don't worry- I won't realize the irony)
The truth will come too clear in the eighth shot of Jameson
(And the nth hit)

The truth I hid from
Those frighteningly cliche three words

You go back to your perfect wife
I go back to my means to an end

You find me again
One night
(I let you find me)
And the accident that created
brightens my world
Wondrously

He becomes my life
The candle in the fog
My own perfection
My reason to feel the dreaded L word
I don't share him though

I'll give him everything
But you
(I'll thank you for the gift
everyday)
(I'll thank you for the love
Every second)

I Lied
the last time we spoke
You could have handled it
I couldn't
The Truth

The Truth Is
I couldn't handle
a tiny baby
wrapped in pink
in my arms
and knowing
knowing that she'd face
the same struggles I had
(I do)
The struggles
that are invisible to everyone else
But those who face them

The Truth Is
I do feel that darkness
the desperation
the desolation
even when I'm in a sea of people

And that sea
feels like it will swallow my down
close in on my and sink me to my own ocean
of self hatred
my voice leaves me
my happiness was left ashore
(a long time ago)

The Truth is
I couldn't handle knowing
as the moon rose to his apex
that as your brothers went out
as your peers partied
you would wander the streets
restless
feckless
and haphazardly
Not seeing the world around you
Not recognizing the world around you
walking through it
as though walking through a pool of molasses
Languidly and morosely
in a trance of forever dejection

I couldn't handle knowing
you were out there
as the drunks on the streets hooted and hollered
and reached out to touch you
And you walked on
Not realizing their ulterior motives

The Truth is
I couldn't as you fell
for the first man to love you
because love was such a foreign emotion
(I would love you
but you would fear the love of all others
push them away
without even realizing)

I couldn't stand watching
as that love turned cold and horrible
and you never even realized
(because I had never given you
a good relationship
to look up to)
as that man, boy
exploited your heart
took liberties that he never should have

The Truth is
I do see the demons
moving in the shadows at night
moving in the bright light of day

The Truth is
I feel the molasses desolation
the sea of hatred
the listless nights

The Truth is
I knew you would feel the same things
I couldn't do it
I couldn't watch as you ruined yourself
I couldn't stand watching you
become me

My dream
Not only capture who I am
And what I love
But who made me

I dream of Langston Hughes
And the rivers and dreams
That have helped so many
And progressed a generation

I dream of Neruda
And his ode
That say so many artful things
Of love
That I wish I could create

I dream of the Old Bard
And his oh so any plays
That confuse and awaken something in me
And the words, words, words

I dream of Robert Frost
And the miles he had to go
That I have also had to travel
And hope to not end up in any of those
Desert places

This six year relationship has reached it's end
Just like this old theater we're totally run down
The actors take their final bend
As the Ruby finally touches the ground

Just like this old theater we're totally run down
Hours in an empty building constructing the essence of the show
As the Ruby finally touches the ground
Finally free of that the turmoil we had to undergo

Hours in an empty building constructing the essence of the show
Putting our life's essence into things seen for 4 nights
Finally free of that the turmoil we had to undergo
We turn down the lights

Putting our life's essence into things seen for 4 nights
Everything will still live in our hearts
We turn down the lights
We pack up the sets, turn down the lights

Everything will still live in our hearts
The actors take their final bend
We pack up the sets, turn down the lights
This six year relationship has reached it's end

Cold bites at my toes
The music box plays its cherub song
Wind carries us away

Frigid air circles the earth
Giggling girls laugh on home
As breeze moves their hair

Weather has no bounds
Lightening strikes where ere it wants
Rustling leaves fly home

the voices were too LOUD
they overtook my mind
they overtook my attention
they overtook all of me
I could not hear
I could not see
I could not be me anymore

When sleep finally came
I had to fight the demons
I had to try and chase them from my mind
But there were more than just I could handle
More than I could take
I tried to run but they were FASTER
I couldn't do anything
They just came closer

I woke up in the middle of the night
thinking it was a reprieve from it all
but the voices were back
but different
Voices of long ago friends
Long ago loves
reminding me that I am UNLOVEABLE
Telling me that no matter hard I try
I will never win
Everytime they take a breath
I think they are done
But the just keep returning

Morning comes
finally
unexpectedly
No sleep was had
not rest was achieved
More fighting and struggling was had
than that which occurs in the day

So that's why I didn't answer your' call
I'm sorry

you and I
in the deep silence and
everlasting sanctity of the night
limbs never willing to leave one another
never having to

trapped in a kingdom of blankets
the air fills with fervent looks
and perfervid touches

seconds last for days and
hours last for seconds
our vital forces swirling
and curling together
becoming one vitality

hearts never leaving the other
we become one as the moon
makes his way into that silent night
Our souls will cry for each other
as dawn come
as our eyes open

and our bodies part

I get angry at you
for no good reason
I push you away
when all you want to do is help
I hate you for loving me
and for wanting to be there
I hate that you care
when I just can't
I hate that you give me space
when I ask you for it
I hat that you check on me
when you feel I am a danger to myself
I hate how jealous I am of you
at all you have
all that you are
all that I will never be
and for all that you do for me
and that I will never be able to pay them back