A cozy blanket of numbness is what I seek
Far away from people and their faux complexities
Their insistence on infecting you with vile opinions
I need to distance myself away from the poison that is humanity
To have the ability of seeing their petty emotions
Through a pair of binoculars
I tire from episodes consisting of synaptic overloads
Decompress, readdress, and be free of stress
I desire the chance to finally say that
I just don't give a ****!

sad, sleepless, lonely nights are not my friend.
I suppose putting the painful thoughts on paper could do wonders for my mind,
but no poem can make my demons disappear.
sadness comes in waves, and if I don't get thrown a life vest soon,
the waves will swallow me whole, pulling me under piece by piece until I'm nothing of a shell of a human body who once could fake a smile.
making a pen bleed out my words is better than a blade bleeding them from my wrist,
but the thought still consumes me.
I'm terrified that one of these days the blade will grab hold of me
and there won't be any turning back. one of these days,
the blade won't just trace my skin in a desperate attempt for crimson,
it will dig in
and I'll just be another scar.

I love my family.
But I hate spending time with them.

My grandma babbles about the "good ol' days",
an aunt stirs her tea.

The cousins are running wild "Who's watching them?"
Right, me.

My mother brags about her eldest daughter
and all her achievements;

I actually don't exist.

My uncle barks a drunken epithet,
hands slam on the table
laughter shakes shoulders.

Talk of kindergarten politics is touched upon.
The gays? They exist.
The poor? They're, well, poor.
The coloreds? Are they still here?

Dice are tossed,
feet shuffle under the table.

The dog yaps for scraps.

Uncle goes outside with a cigarette
takes a puff.

Auntie doesn't wanna go to bed,
says "a slavelord woulda haveta whip me to get me off this chair."

I decide I've had enough.

I get up for another drink.

I love my family.
But I hate spending time with them.

A tribute to the shallow scars on my back
from the peeling edges of her 6-inch heels
when her knees were on my shoulders
and I teased the alphabet into her lips

Homage to the bruises on my neck and chest
from her strawberry-wax coated lips
when her blunt white teeth scraped words
across my skin

Here’s to the video footage we captured
with her laptop camera, sitting on a desk
Broadcasting us both to the other side of the world

Ode to your girlfriend, screaming my name
Ode to her fingers and tongue
Ode to your girlfriend, taste-testing me
Ode to making her

He gets off
on watching you
with me

You made him ***
when he saw you
underneath me

His hand in his pants
when he saw you
covered in hickeys
from me

Do you remember
when he begged
to watch you
interlace your tongue
with mine

You made him moan
when you were on your back,
*******, by me

He loves to watch you
*with me.