I am trying to find solace in silence
Comfort in quiet
Safety in my slumber
As seasons of friendship end I struggle with the idea silence
Notifications on but my phone doesn't buzz
Work, school, work, school, study, practice study.
No need for texts if you don't have time
Breathe
Sit and breathe
Breathe and sit
I have never quite sat in silence
Always has there been noise
The noise in my head
The noise of my life
For one of the first times in my life in sit comfortably in silence

Everytime I look in the mirror I smile
Not because I think im pretty
But because i don't want the mirror girl to be sad
Because to me she is separate
I don't want that girl to see me cry
Everytime I look in the mirror I smile
Not because I'm happy
but because she's pretty
Even if I am ugly
Inside out and all over
That girl will always be pretty
Everytime I look in the mirror I smile
Because that girl is me
She deserves to be pretty
She deserves to be happy
Inside out
And all over

I wanna be more than a warm body someone you want to see,
not see,
look into my eyes and see
See me
more than what you ever could be
contain so much pain suffering sorrow, an anguish,
but it is so beautiful.
So wonderful
so full of happiness and smiles and good things and bad.
I want to be more than a warm body.
I want you to mean something to me
Someone I mean
someone I see
Someone I breathe
Someone I need
I wanna be more than a warm body to you

I don't remember a time where I didn't write.

I've always written down everything that's made me upset since I learned how to spell sad

S.A.D.

A feeling I know all too well

I can't quite say i'm sad all the time, but sad lingers

It sits in the back of my head, begging for me to use the steak knife at the dinner table to turn my arms into lined paper.

I've always been a writer

Papers and pen

A shield and a sword

My words sting like daggers, but they are shielded and locked between the confounds of composition books

The thoughts usually hidden for the sakes of others flow freely between these gaps and lines.

I've always been a writer

I'm told I never stop talking

But the words I speak are carefully chosen

What's written, What lies within that spiral notebook those are my real words

I've always been a writer.

My notes app
Described only as a collection of my adolescence
The loss and gain of my teenage life
You dear.
You made it into my notes app
What an honor
Hold the presses
If you hurt me real bad or I hurt you
Sad, Mad, Absolutely disgusted
All of my everything
Written
Told
Plainly stated
My life.

I’m a…

Middle-class sinner, athlete village breadwinner.
The man in the mirror is a sweet smooth operator.
Too unique in my skin cause “Black Lives Matter.”
A young discipline brotha, who one day will meet his maker.

A “Chi-Town” Legend; south side lands are what I represent &
Against all odds, I battle victorious as a strong veteran.
Never threaten, but these quick lightning hands will do some holy damage .
Cause I come from where God’s from, the pearly gates of Heaven.

Let the dead carry the weight of you
when the road is long,
the climb too steep

—worn treads, bare threads—

out of time,
in place.

A bereaved mother's touch to guide you,
an empty hand to hold

when you're on the brink
of a faltering jump to the sidewalk
she is right there with you
to lift you
over the deep mud, the oily puddles.

In that dark mirror
let her show you the shattered faces
of the ones taken

but still here with you,

still here
in a world seen through her eyes
for what it was

and for all it can be.

They say love is blind
but my melanin is not
because black skin was all that was present
when george lost his life to a cop
black stood out
when we said our lives matter
black is all they see
when injustice leaves our brains splattered
you can’t justify racism
with “i don’t see color”
because this isn’t just my skin
it’s my culture
it’s all i have left
my only sort of identity
if you don’t see my blackness
you don’t see me

My name is Martha and I'm very tired
my patience as such has long expired
so you don't want my brown skin next to your white
well madam I'm tired so I'm sitting tight
it's hot and I waited my turn in the queue
and I paid, just like him, just like her, just like you
you can carp, you can moan, you can cause all kinds of fuss
but lady I'm keeping my seat on this bus
because I'm tired