Exotic flair dances in screaming hues,
Sensual stench beguiles with spiced odour.

Welcomed strangers crave tamed adventures,
Staring spiteful, shocked at ordinary extremes.

Mother, limit your daughter – in the name of love.
Father, torpedo your son – in service to the family.
Family, direct the daughters – for the call of their fathers.
Love, sabotage the sons – for the sake of their mothers.

Religion, preaching freedom, chains
its limbs to bones and brainstems.
Shadi, rupee, social media
replace Vishnu, Brahma, Shiva.

Exquisite journeys in a shadowed dream.
What a thrill – At such a bill.

I’m the most stereotypical teenager you’ve ever met.
I spend all my time with my friends.
I like frappuccinos and I’m obsessed
With my social media pages.

I fell in love with a boy;
And, when he broke my heart,
I sobbed on the floor for weeks
And then dyed my hair blonde and moved on.

I wore a pretty blue dress and sparkly heels to prom.
I graduated at the top of my class,
President of the honor society,
Friends with everyone.

I’m your stereotypical teenage girl.
I’m the main character in a Disney channel original movie.
I have everything, I think.
Why can’t I sleep at night?

What they don’t tell you in the movies
Is that when I’m not with my friends, I feel lost and alone.
When I was heartbroken, I fell apart.
I’m successful, but at what cost?

The stereotypical teenage girl gets 3 hours of sleep a night.
I spend most of the night doing work,
But I also spend time texting my friends and flirting with boys.
When I’m alone with only myself, do I still fit the stereotype?

A valuable life lesson
To all unenlightened seventh grade boys:
Being sons of the male gender,
First find a good sculptor near you
And a rock large enough to be your head.
Because that’s what it should be
Chiseled out of stone. Waterproof.
Because crying
Is only for pretty girls, saggy old ladies
And dogs with eye allergies.
And somehow,
If a stream trickles through the rocky outcrop,
And dares to dampen your sands,
Lick it with your tongue
Before it dribbles down your chin.

I watched my PE teacher
After I fell down and bruised,
My heart swelling into my throat
Like a bloated pink balloon,
Ruby red irises cracking under pressure,
Finally oozing like ripe mangoes.
Each drop paid by a slap.
Barely audible, I coughed, ‘why?’
‘Because’, he spat through clenched teeth
’Boys don’t cry!’

Cross your legs, bow your head,
laugh softly, muffle your tears.
Occupy as little space as you can.

Don't look into their eyes,
they may see the fire blazing there.
Fires beckon to be extinguished.

Sit silently on this pedestal,
be the shiniest offering you can be.
The seller doesn't profit from bruised peaches.

Be the object of my desire,
here's a mold you must fit in.
Walking in the middle may confuse us.

You are the creator of the world,
but we will distract you with petty battles.
So you never realize you can win wars.

Hold your breath when you're scared,
don't move at all while I touch you.
Your shyness is your beauty.

Dressed in your bridal finery upon death,
frozen in the only identity that counts.
You will be perfectly still, finally perfect.

If I don’t let it out soon
All my troubles and worries
All my trials and tribulations
If I can’t open up my mouth soon
I will wither
I will shrivel up like a beautiful rose
That’s been depleted of its nutrients
I shed my last tear and haven’t watered myself since
If I don’t let it out soon
I will be still addicted to something
That isn’t even good for me
Addicted to someone
That isn’t even good for me
But is everything I could ever need
But if that’s so
Then why am I still withering?
If I can’t open my mouth soon
I will never be able to change
“I just want happiness”
Is all I have to say
How can I have that when I won’t let myself
Trapping myself in this box
Was not intended
Now I’m too comfortable
In a place I don’t even want
Bounded
Cursed
Stuck
All things that I feel every second of the day
So
If I don’t let it out soon
I’m going to be just like you
And that doesn’t mean you’re a bad person
But I can’t see myself being happy like this anymore
I love you so much
I never would’ve thought leaving you would be the only way to break free
From everything holding me back
So
If I can’t open my mouth soon
I’ll just be the next stereotypical black female
And I can’t have that