lonely is YOU
when you are not comfortable with yourself
and
the things about you that make people ask questions
that make you question
the very essence
that is YOU.
but
lonely can also
be you accepting YOU because you finally realize
it is ok to be you in your own skin
because
you are enough

man
woman
a mat on a floor at night
from them, I came
hips cracked open
like earth gives way for tinny little
green crops to emerge
dreams are feathers
ideas too
they come from nothing
and then they grow
while we walk over troubled waters
I grew in stride inside a god
she was woman
and the earth
her *****
mother
let me be magic
an army of a thousand marching
in full-force through winds and earth plains
shattering glass ceilings
like my ancestors did before me
let me walk in their ashes
let my feet be sanctified
I will cross every bridge they built
I will walk in purpose
I walk in thousands
it is what you believe
that you see
because they were
I AM!

My black has roamed the earth since the beginning of time. And even before the biblical earth was created.
Before civilization became mainstream and hungry European limbs raced for a stake in Africa.
My black existed even before the term "*****" was coined in the 1800s to name me into a corner with property, beasts, and things that crawl the earth.
Before the exploration of Sub-Saharan Africa in the 15th century, during the Age of Discovery, my black thrived and survived.
Even then, we were more than just bodies existing. It meant something. We meant something to our families and friends and communities. We were nations of tribes and cities on rich and fertile soil, with traditions and cultures where women ran and led families and armies. Where babies became land-owners at birth. And trees sang their names to the skies in celebration.
You see, my black is progressive.
My black was never stronger than it is now.
I won’t break, no matter how hard they try to subjugate me.
They will not succeed, they shall not.
My black shall conquer any injustices committed against me.
My black is God-given and me, thus my black is unapologetic.
My black is strong.
My black is multi-dimensional, complicated, and many different things beyond the color of my skin or the nature of my ***** hair.
my black and I are more than just my ethnicity or race.
My black is stronger than every standard of beauty I am forced to live up to.
My black is human and compassionate.
My black gives me the power I need, to step into my own peculiar trajectory and destiny.
I do not blame them, for not being able to understand my black, because it took me a long time, to fully comprehend, accept, and step into the power of my blackness.
Now that I do, I am unashamed and proud of who and what I am in my blackness.
They may try to enslave and keep me in darkness and ******* but like a phoenix from the ashes, my black shall rise and prevail.
My voice will be heard.
They may shoot me, spite me and even dismiss me all they want but still, they will never **** my black.
Even in despair, my blackness comforts me.
My black is too strong to be broken.
And I am Valid.

Tell me why
The children of Africa are brung up
Only when I try to scream for help

Tell me why
An echoe implodes inside my mind
Nothing is wrong, its all a show

Like white draped over corpses
Your comparisons muffle my cries

A broken leg is still a broken leg
After a thousand broken necks

So

Depression is still depression
After a couple of sadistic ******

If life
is a collection
of chain reactions
I wonder
who started
the chaos
and
who are at
the bottom of
the receiving end
because if it
falls short at
being fair
then nothing here
is valid.

Headaches
Come in all
Shapes
Sizes
Forms

Headaches
Come and
Go

They are tempory

Your pain
Is tempory too

I hope you know I will not tear my insides up for you and succumb to a void of nothingness just to gain a sense of recognition from the limited care you implemented upon me.

I will no longer stay up and spend endless hours deciding if I want to text you apologies or call you at midnight and tell you I miss you because I know you will pick up and your mind will already encompass a sense of pride and confidence that you’ve won the battle over me.

I will show you that I can be okay without your poisonous tongue that rejuvenated the scarce nothingness of the meanings you dreaded to say as in such a way that your fake promises could actually heal the pain that already dwells within my heart.

I will spend an infinite amount of days fighting the images of us actually being something and I will learn to forgive you for your double edged sword that you pierced within both of us to make sure that your mark shall be made to all who dares to even try to love me but only to be disappointed by the hallow form that you’ve created.

I don’t care if it takes years for me to actually love myself again after the damage you’ve done but it will all be worth it because I’ve realized that there is someone out there who just might be gentle enough to help me heal my own wounds and to be the support I needed when I couldn’t breathe on perilous nights that seemed endless.

You may have sparked a fire, and it may have burnt more than actually lit the darkness but now it is igniting like the sun and this passion will continue until I am ready to accept that you were just another stage in my life that was meant to be torn away carefully and placed somewhere that I will soon forget it even existed.

I will love myself again and I hope you learn the weight of your actions and your words that have swallowed up innocent souls that just wanted to be set free.