Never trust a white man,
Never **** a Jew,
Never sign a contract,
Never rent a pew.
Don't enlist in armies;
Nor marry many wives;
Never write for magazines;
Never scratch your hives.
Always put paper on the seat,
Don't believe in wars,
Keep yourself both clean and neat,
Never marry ******.
Never pay a blackmailer,
Never go to law,
Never trust a publisher,
Or you'll sleep on straw.
All your friends will leave you
All your friends will die
So lead a clean and wholesome life
And join them in the sky.

But I always forget to tell her

and I tell her that too

and she asks why I forget

reply comes easy

it just a wayfaring, stepping stone

on the way to my

kissing your neck,

and thus overlooked,

but always the first thing I see...

I hate red.
Red is the color of his lips when he whispers in my ear,
The color of his dress that one time we danced,
The feeling in the back of my eyes
When I'm told I am not
The same to him anymore,
No longer worthy,
He is a bee floating from flower to flower
And I am the sunset-colored blossom too shy to walk away.
Red is the way I begged my sister to let me wear her crimson blouse when I went to see him
Because I know it's his favorite color
And I didn't care that she yelled at me later.
Red is the fire in my stomach that pours too much smoke into my lungs,
Leaving me choking on secrets, and fear, and
Emotions that don't deserve to exist because
I knew all along that this was going to happen.
Red is the way I should be angry but instead I feel numb,
Numb in a way that no scarlet late-night passions or self-inflicted bloodstains
Will banish.
Red, like the shadows in the night that are too unique to be ordinary black,
Instead creeping over tired limbs with a vibrancy
Out of place in the grey shades of my thoughts.
Red, the feeling of heat in my sternum when he said he maybe liked me,
The way my face grew warm with my sister's teasing,
The way my heart fluttered too fast,
Catching me off guard when he held my hand,
The confusion when he wasn't  comfortable with me,
The savage resentment taking over my mind
When he confessed his non-attraction to me.
Red, fading slowly to the dusty leftover
Pink-brown tones
Of roses left too long in a vase.
I hate red.

Each day that passes, I am more proud to be a woman.
I witness the sexism I face in the most basic of conversations but women I aspire to be more like motivate me, remind me
We hold so much power.
I may not have marched with Angela Davis or Audre Lorde,

But a girl asked if I thought she was pretty today.
As I applied man made make up to her face so maybe just maybe someone would notice her like I did,
I thought of how this response could change her outlook.
"Yes. Do you like your hair and make up?"
"Yes. Do you like it?"
"I think you're perfect."

See in that moment no man could tell me that it's easy being a woman or that I'm too uptight or take my job too seriously because these girls look up to me. Knocking on my door for whatever reason because they trust me. They listen when I'm stern and embrace my humor. As a woman I am able to tell girls they are beautiful as they look at me as inspiration. Moments like this I am Audre or Angela simply because I am making a difference, shaping young women. I hold so much power.

To see you for you

The pretty face

Sculpted by fairies in a timid place

We equipped make up

But oh oh oh natural 

The hormones of a different women

Hot cooking

Where I'm looking

Kisses to you

The taste if that blue moon

Moon moon moon

How quaint very soon soon soon

I've donned to be inspired

Motivated by smiles

Determined all the while

Few few few

Look and taste and feel

Like you you you

i have been living off of
black coffee and celery
for the past 4 days and
i want to blame it all on
the fact that i'm young
and stupid and i will do
almost anything to like
myself again.

i can grow out of this,
right?