Eat sleep birdies chirp
tweety-tunes taily-twerks
life survive dawn surprise
tasty worms sunrise  
early-birds catchy verbs

See through like borderless windows
Inside the outside of one's shallow shells
We seek what isn't broken
And fix the wrong parts
In hopes we too can be woven
Into rapturous divine coddling.
We knew nothing.

Just because you didn't like what i said doesn't make it inherently mean
I will always be the angry Black girl
Unfortunately
I am angry
I am perpetually Black
And a woman beyond my control
But is it wrong to be angry
At a world that doesn't want me
A world that hides me
Tells me
I got that bad hair
Im not good enough for TV
Fix your
Hair
Fix your
Nose
Fix your
Additude
Grown folks business
I am a woman built to mother children
My womb built to harbor
Pray to God they aren't a girl
Pray to God they aren't
Black
I dont have to be angry
Sit back
Let someone else be angry
Let someone else be the Black girl in the room
But my blood won't let me
My veins will jump up and run away
My body's inclined
My soul won't sit
Sit for *******
So I'm forcing myself to bd the angry Black girl

It’s time to begin something new.
Something small that never grew.
It’s time to bury something old.
A long story far overtold.

It seems i can't forget these thoughts,
So i work myself untill i am taut,
Untill not a single pondering is bought.
But still i stop then i am caught.
Caught in the thoughts, that cause me such wrought.
It seems i will never forget your denim shorts,
Or your hair, or the way we talked
for in my mind these things are caught ,
And no matter how hard i've fought,
I just can't forget these thoughts.

I cannot drink you,
or eat until I reach my fill,
I cannot savour every rise and hill,
consume each circling bird that drifts in flight
or charge my glass with graceful morning light,
I can only hold you,
fold you as a memory to keep and put away,
and promise that with luck I may return one day

I wake in the middle of the night and there's not enough air to fill my lungs

I can see the calm but it's too far away

There's enough noise in my head to wake the neighborhood

Scream into my pillow, I'm sure it's traumatized by now

Put my headphones on and force myself to sleep

I wake in the middle of the morning it's like it never happened

There's air in the room

My music is louder than the noise

Being sad is only for the dark of my room

My personality isn't fit for depression

I'm not that girl

I have too many hobbies to be so sad so I just decided to stop

Tears are for pillows

Crying is for your bed

Because you're too happy to be sad

It's. Not. You.

Milford Sound,
how can I hope to chain you
contain you with a word,
captured like a beetle on a card
for other souls to marvel and to see,
that’s patently absurd
how could pen or brush or eye
portray the loveliness of thee

Always read more than you write,
Enjoy more than you dislike,
Critique less than you praise,
But critique none the less.
Though if you come to doubt,
Sing more than you are silent,
Walk more than you are still,
Then pick up the pen once again.
If you somber, write all that is sad,
Yet if you rejoice, write only the praises of the sun,
Though if you laugh, soon you will cry,
Only to know the beautiful cycle of life.