This is a letter from my future self
To the past and present Me’s
When you’re stuck in the spaces in between,
May this letter set you free.

It’s hard to think of what to say
To my past and present self.
What are the things you need to hear
That would be of use or help.

Surely, whatever I end up choosing
Will be hard upon your ears.
I must address some insecurities
And attack your greatest fears.

Don’t be afraid to take the fast lane,
Though I know you like moving slow,
You see, sometimes, moving quickly
Is the fastest way in which to grow.

I know you like to test the waters
Before gradually wading in,
But life is short, so take the leap
Don’t be so afraid to swim.

Remember life is always worth living
For there are people who truly care.
And when you’re not in that place
Let those who still are know you’re there.

Regardless of your wealth or status
We are each and everyone the same;
Deserving of grace, respect, and kindness
Whether or not you know their name.

Life is an adventure full of memories,
Like scars— just stories waiting to be told.
Just because you open up to someone
Doesn’t mean you’re shouting it to the world.

So take a chance once in awhile,
Go over, talk to her, smile.
Don’t overthink, ask what if, or why.
You’ll never find out unless you try.

Laugh when life gets crazy,
Love her patiently,
Live life in the moment,
Sincerely, “Future Me”.

1/16/19

Missed the deadline
To submit poems
To one of my favorite books...

Lost my drive for poems
Because I am caught in the gears
Grinding against medal

I have a lot to say
Eh... I'm to worried to say it
To tired to push through articulation.

The poems come like fleeting thoughts
With no time to focus on them
Nor jot them down in the moment.

Just small snippits for me
I suppose
Jumbled attempts at explaination.

Because I Am Indigenous.

There’s always a brume of skepticism (of fear) that will loom like a fly,
Slightly past 9:30pm on a Friday and the twilight is taking the sky
I find myself reciting; “It’s too dangerous. It’s too dangerous.”
I feel this way because it’s another day with another alert on the news broadcast; another “missing person’s” poster hanging on the bleak walls,
The articles are increasing while the fight to battle against it is decreasing,
We attend more social gatherings where we mourn more than we celebrate;
We mourn, can’t you hear us?  
Our missing indigenous women;
Of injured sisters, mothers, Aunty’s and cousins.
Of our murdered women.

There’s so much injustice and shame in our system,
Our voices get silence and we get dismissed with one wave of your ******* palm and no second glance.
Shame.

Because I am Indigenous,
My cultural beliefs are frowned upon; my healing ceremonies that takes away the discrimination toxicity, my herbs that help heal my throat that’s yelling at you to listen,
My prayers in my two native tongues for those effected by your colonialism.
My cultural heritage that is label as witchcraft and locked away in shelves cloaked by their leatherback book that they hold so close to their sinful chests

And dangling cross.

Colonialism.
Discrimination.

Because I am Indigenous woman,
I am afraid to walk alone.

Because I am Indigenous,
I am afraid to be a victim of a hate-crime.

Because I am Indigenous.

I am also resilient.

Been a week since the new year arrived at dawn's door
Seven sunrises had passed making way for many more
Resolutions, wishes, aspirations cast into winds of new days
In hopes they'd be carried forth on each dawn's new rays

Let us welcome the fresh air that come
Inhale it deep as reminder that we're luckier than some
Let us embrace the opportunity of time
A privilege bestowed so we could still pen in rhyme

Let us cherish the love from family and new found friends
Shower upon them the gift of verse that never ends
Let us strengthen existing virtual and physical connections
Reinforce them with kindness, fortitude and good intentions

Let us sieve past experiences that mar us black
Dispense with animosity, ill thoughts and considerations that lack
Let us trudge forward into the unknown together
Hands in hands and hearts to hearts into the unforeseeable future

No matter who you are or where you've been
We'll all get our fair share of twenty fifteen
We've all been granted if you'd only take advantage
In the great book of life, on a fresh, brand new page

Do note that this is just ideal advice not so much as a plea
I know the journey is long, arduous and never easy
I hope these words I've penned would lighten your load
Little bites of wisdom (I hope) for the long meandering road

I can't promise the rise of the nightly moon
But the sun will rise where you are; and it will arrive very soon
This is me being optimistic. I don't wear this garb for too long at a time

I learned of a love for treehouses,
And 8 mile.
Both the Detroit and Farmington sides.
I gave up deepthroating and cigarettes for New Years.

I developed an attachment to bridges.
Morrison, Hawthorne, Burnside, Steel, Tilikum
All pacing my afternoon runs.
Ambassador.
My favorite thing about traveling is coming home at the end.

I met another soul mate, one I don’t kiss.
We read our poems between English classes,
Scrounge up quarters for midnight subway runs,
Bond over an old love of car rides and vampire weekend.
She says
Life is excruciatingly painful,
And as your best friend I’ll let you know
“I only smoke **** with you, on tuesday evenings.”
(“And I only cry in public bathrooms at noon.”)

I learned home is where the heart is,
And my heart is always with my mother
I inked our love onto my skin in June.

I know now, that ******* is less scary and more of a sad college kid thing.
(But ****** is just as scary as it seems on TV.)
I met the pigeon man on 6th and Yamhill,
Swarmed by hundreds of grey flying rats
Kissing each one on the head before setting them back down.

I finally lost my father.
It didn't hurt half as badly as I imagined it to.

I invited too many girls to stay the night.
And one too many boys.
But I never regret holding you all close because friendship is ******’ magic.
Thank you my little pony.

I learned no, you can't flush toilet paper in Asia
And yes, elephants are incredible.
That spinning on a pole makes you an artist before anything else.
That embarrassment is worth it.
That therapy is worth it only sometimes.

I learned a language where I can finally be quiet.
Admitted to
Guilty pleasures
In pop music
And fried food.
My body is a temple that can handle some mac and cheese.
And beauty is much more loving your current state than anything else.

I love my current state.
Rain, and no sales tax,
and a candlelit home.