"i think I lost my halo
trying to make sure you were breathing
trying to attach you to the sun
i know i lost some of my energy
my vibe aint high like before
but i was trying to bring you with me
i was trying to build a silver lining
out of the breaks within your heart
but you wouldn't forget the pain
you wouldn't let go of her
and she does not love you
and holding on doesn't make it real baby
i. am. real. baby.

you saw me bending for you
and you couldn't even hold me
you shattered my heart
and you took so much light with you when you did

i was a vacation to you
something you could indulge in
something you allow yourself out of curiosity but never stay long enough to work for
but i am no Vegas
               no Miami
               no Jamaica
               no Puerto Rico
I am the ******* moon
someplace
someone
you always come back to
I am not the train baby
I am the station
and I'm not only darkness;
a place to hide
I am light
something you open for
and give back to

so next time you find
you can't take your eyes off the sun
give in because you are ready
because you are whole
and you have something to give back
to this universe
not because you are scared
and you need  
                        all this gold
                        all this honey
                                                 to fill you.

Forgive yourself
Perfect was never a word suited for you
Love yourself
Everything comes back to this
Love your sister
She has been picked apart, degraded, and has an internal war eating her from the inside out
Love your brother
He has a time stamp of deliverance to a life of incarceration, bullets released from an absence of sense, lack of educated, blind ambitious followers.
Raise your head
You are a Goddess created
with disarming beauty in mind.
Continue to place one foot in front of the other
You are meant and strongly designed for forward movement.
Take no steps back, do not bow down your head, do not close your mouth
In fear that judgment will fall
It will, but you must speak anyways.
Your voice is imperative
to the growth of lost girls who are unsure what real women are made of.
Your voice is imperative to the peaking of the minds of men unsure what to look for in a Queen, show him.
Your voice is imperative to the readjustment of the image of
Black Women with large voices
Black Women with high diction
Black Women with love language
Black Women with literary genius
Black Women filled with nothing less than the peace & love God has manifested within us.
Black Women
Black Women
Black Women
Who love Black men like double chocolate moist bliss
Who love White men like dark roast coffee filled with cream
Who love Latino men like Butterscotch candy dipped in chocolate
The list goes on
Black Women who love like we are bound to implode if we don't give the universe what it is that we need back.
Black Women
Your Mother
Black Women
Your Sister
Black Women
Your Friend
Black Women
Your Lover
Black Woman
Love Her.

Hi, I'm an insecure poet
Just like I don't like myself
I don't like my poetry
I don't know but sometimes
My poems aren't just it
They are unclear and weird
Like my personality is
They're short and stout
Just like I look physically
They sometimes rhyme too much
Like I overdue too much
Sometimes the free verses
Seem like the amateur I am
And everything's clichéd
Like my creativity got ******
They're hairy and dark
And ugly and scarred
But most of the time
They're just all over
All over excellence
Just like my neighbour
Is all over men
And I try too hard
I get all over it
But when I let go
No matter that I'm fat
The breeze carries me forth
No matter that I'm dark
I shine
And my creativity
Crawls out of crevices  
To create poetry
That warms the soul

I remember how you’d say
We should spend time not money

But I spent my money on time
And not even my gold encrusted piece
Could freeze the moment you were mine

I can’t tell the difference,
Is it my watch ticking,
Heart beating or the metronome?
Is it the smoke or the pheromones?

You can’t remember the moans
But you remember how the liquor tricked you,
Made her loose
Made you lick her

And you found the gold mine at the meeting of her thighs,
It wasn’t only on her wrist and in her eyes

I’m not one to pray
But my knees got ******
From worshiping a Sunday kind of love

In the name of father time,
You - the sun
And my holy spirit

And I guess it’s true what they say
That nothing good happens after 2 AM

Then again, there was you
And then those 2 PM Monday blues

And it’s ironic how time heals all wounds,
but no drug, god or serum can save us from
tempus edax rerum

it wasn’t chaotic.
it was calm and serene,
like the ocean.
the soft pitter patter
of the rain on the roof,
and the cool air it brought.
it was a sip
of freshly brewed coffee,
natural with no additives,
whatsoever.
the gut feeling
of knowing where home was.
and that is how
you came into my life.


the star that shines the brightest
amongst the pitch black sky.
it’s the white cloud that outshines
all the gray and gloomy ones.
the perfect fit of the last piece
to the unfinished puzzle.
it's the warm, fuzzy feeling
of getting into bed
early on a Friday night.
and that is how it was
when I started loving you.


it’s like a deeply cut wound,
one that’s inundating
with crimson colored blood,
having a tinge of maroon.
it induces pain
with every inbreathe
and exhalation.
it manages to have
the appearance of a scar,
yet it still feels so fresh
like a bruise.
and that is how it felt
when you left.


it was filled with haze
and suffocation.
the uncontrollable fast paced beat
of your heart.
Mona Lisa's enigmatic smile,
one that is hardly understood
by majority of the world.
a bite of dark chocolate,
bitter and sweet.
and this is my survival.