A Piece of Heaven

Six months of rubbing my stomach, 

Feeling her kick.

Gaining a bound with the tiny human inside of me. 

I set out to bring a life into this world.

But I came home with no baby. 

God received a new angel that day. 

With her beautiful brown, baby soft skin and tiny brown eyes.

As they took her out of my arms, I saw her gracefully flutter up to the sky that day. Like a precious, innocent butterfly. 

I couldn't help but cry...

At the thought of no baby in the pink nursery next door. 

No midnight feedings and no cries at the break of dawn.

I feel like......

I feel....

I don't feel nothing. 

I don't know exactly how to feel.

I would sit down and cry hours upon hours.

Imagining her entire hand wrapped around my one finger. I even imagined what the sound of her cry would have sounded like. 

Why did God plan for me to suffer and bend over in pain like this? 

Long walks and awkward silences  filled my life since that day. 

I'm not my happy, positive self that I once was. 

Im broken. 

People reassure me that it could be worse.

But I know for sure that I'm living in the land of "worse" with walls painted black and the blood of my soul upon the floor. 

My heart is hurt.

My spirit is in distress. 

But God received an angel that day. 

God.....

I've cried out upon that name so many times.

I even wrote Him a couple of letters allowing my emotions to navigate my pen.

But He never seems to have the time to answer my questions. 

Stop my tears and silence my weeps. 

When He called her to the other side, He took more than half of me. 

So now I'm here. 

With my formless tears and undeniable fears all wrapped up in a blanket snuggling against my chest. 

Occasionally pinching myself..

Hoping its all just a dream.

But the more people send their condolences and red roses with  "Keeping you in my prayers" messages the reality sinks in. 

It eases the pain just a little to look at it like She didn't belong on Earth. 

She was much too pure for this sinful world.

So she was called by the Almighty. 

God received an angel that day.  

He pried my hands open and lifted her out of my motherly grasp. 

As if my pain didn't matter.

I had no right.

I pray that God gives me His eyes

And Hopefully one day I'll see the light. 

The reason for my misery.

And understand my struggles

In its entirety. 

Me and You.

Us.

Our relationship is gone.

Killed in a burning pit full of he said she said, insecurities, indirect words and emotions bottled inside.

 We were both nearly the death of one another.

With each argument we damn near killed each other 

with our razor sharp tongues and not a care to give. 

Our hearts turned cold and our souls painted black. 

 We loved each other.

More than we both could ever know. 

But the relationship was like poison.

It had us crippled over.

Crying with no one reason.

Emotional and chaotic.

But Because of the toughness of our skin we both refused to let it show.

One minute it was you and me.

The next it was you against me.

Sword and shield in hand we fought until one of us fell to the ground. 

Sooner after,

 one of us grabbed the other and held on tight. 

As if the wound wasn't still there.

Brushing over conversations that should have been thoroughly discussed. 

The same as placing a band-aid on a gun shot wound. 

   

No trust. 

No understanding.

No communication.

We both knew that "we" wouldn't last,

But forced ourselves to keep trying regardless.

In hopes of a miracle.

The return of the bond we had the week before last.

Abused  feelings.

Restless minds.

Fast paced heart beats.

Short tempers.

The emphasized sensitivity of a battered heart. 

These are the things that took one word, "us", and divided into two.

Me and you.

The way we distanced ourself at first put a strain on the emotional attachment we had to one another.

But as the days go by....

The more  it feels right to have said Goodbye.

The poison we fed each other... 

The stress we caused one another disappeared.

Joy returned. 

Only this time you and I  weren't present in the lives of the other. 

We tried to hang in there and be tough.

But the word "us" was just way too rough.

And Still I Love You

You've molded me into the person I am today.
I cry continuously in the sake of your name.
Your negativity attempted to change who I was becoming
But I fought it every step of the way.
And still I love you.

The words that fall from your mouth
Pierced my heart like daggers
The voice of a mother is one that should build you up
But yours only tore me down.
I was hurt.
I was wounded.
I fell to the ground.
And still I love you.

You taught me to never let my emotions show.
To never let my tears leak.
But I've decided to allow my wounds to make me wise instead of weak.
And for that I thank you.

Many times I've asked myself....
What is it that I search for?
I have come to the realization that I search for a mother.
A mother who gives me warm hugs and sweet kisses.
A mother who lends a shoulder when my tears fall.
A mother who grants long time wishes.
You've never been that for me....
And still I love you.

I'm determined to make this relationship work.
But if we just so happen to fail...
If victory runs the other way...
If this battle we do not win.....
I promise to collect myself and try to achieve again.

I've decided to make a change.
To discuss the painful past
But work towards a peaceful future.

I hope for only better days
I dont ask for much...
Except the one thing I never got: A mothers touch.
And still i love you.

Twist & Turns

My tears were meant to fall.
They were meant to be free.
But my pride holds my mind captive
And makes me feel as though freedom equals the end of me.
A lot of times I feel low.
So low that you would think that up is the only direction to go.
But somehow i manage to get lost in the twists and turns.

I try so hard to search for "good"
But "bad" seems to always find me first.
People say "keep your faith"
But no matter how hard I try to keep my faith....
It's like my faith just wont keep me.

No matter how hard I try to see the forest....
There's always this one damn tree.
That'll blocked my view for what seems like an eternity.

A wise person once told me
"You have to go through darkness to get to the light"
But i've been in the dark for so long,
Im convinced that there is no light.
But only a mere prisoner of our imagination.
A vessel of pure hope.

They say its not how you fall,
But how you get up.
But what if I'm too weak to get up?
I never stand completely on my feet it seems....
I scrape and struggle only to make it to just my knees.
 Just for the chance to cry out a soundless cry,
 yell out a silent please.
You can see the many times i've fallen just by counting the scars on my knees.

Im tired of climbing mountains just to lose the battles at the top.
But then again.......
What is life without obstacles?
Life itself is just one big lesson awaiting to be learned.
And the best lessons lay in between the twists and turns. ❤

In Memory Of......

Ain't y'all tired of saying RIP?
Or is it only me?
It's gotten to where I'm scared to wake up in the mornings.
As if I didn't already know what to expect.
Of course,
The loss of yet another soul.
The screaming mothers and weeping baby momma's
The sight of a soul-less body with twelve gun shot wounds makes me quiver.
The pain and suffering of life itself etched on his face.
His hand places upon his chest.
Guarding the heart that cost him his life.
It's sad..... The fact that i actually expect this sight.

I'm tired of going to church in the middle of the week just to sit in red pews
Dressed in all black.
Watching everybody within the church's walls reminisce on the memories of the happy times  of their loved ones.
Making them out to be saints.
Knowing damn well they're closer to an aint.
But you know,
No one dares to speak on that.
Keeping the skeletons locked in the closet because we're in the house of the Lord.
As if He can't see through the wooden door.

I'm tired of hearing the pastor preach the same sermon
About how yet another life was taken too soon.
Putting the same amount of money into the same golden collection plates.

I'm tired of hearing the choir sing the same sad ass songs about how he/she has gone on to a better place.
As if they knew the plans God had in store for the people that once were.
Sick of seeing a person...
Who last week,
Walked joyfully down the street,
Be placed six feet under.

Hope for better days mixed in with the residue of fear
I know that the only way I will no longer see the letters "R.I.P"
Is if they're printed above a picture of me.

"Friend"

We sometimes come across friends with different intentions.

A different motive.

It would be conducive to our hearts if we were able to place a friend up to the light,

Like money,

And see clearly which ones were fake and which ones were real.

You have to watch out for certain "friends" 

You know, the ones that cry in your name...

But their tears take no form.

The ones that smile in your face,

But place daggers in your back.

Those same friends that you pledge your loyalty to,

Will be the same friends to laugh hysterically at your pain. 

Where are the people who honestly know what friendship is all about?

The people who will jump in front of a bullet for you.

Who would take time out of their day

Just to come see about you

Back in the day,

Loyalty, respect, and honesty was everything.

Now, you rarely see any of the three.

Everyone is so wrapped up in their own drama, sorrows, and insecurities. 

Evil wears the face of the innocent.

Luring you into a world of false friendship. 

The same people that watched you build yourself up.

All of the blood, sweat, and tears

Will be the same people who will single-handedly try to tear you down. 

Aiming to leave you wilted and deserted. 

In a world like this... 

Its not easy to find a good person with an ear to listen,

A mouth to advise,

Or a heart to truly care. 

Subtracting the frauds from the liars

The thieves from the crazies.

Finding a person who honestly has your best interest at heart is getting harder and harder by the day. 

If only people were like money. 

So we could hold them up to the light,

To see who was real and who was fake. 

Honey Bee

He whispers things in my ear
That no man had ever said
He wrapped me in a sheet lined with passion
His touch made me second guess myself
My mind believes a love like this can't be real
But now my soul is falling into a deep ecstasy
Trying to avoid love drastically
Because in the past,
Love has cost me my pieces of my soul.
Caused me to lose myself.
Finally,
After gaining the strength required to snatch my soul away from satan
In the most of my trials, fear, and bitterness
Stands a man.
A man who holds me when I need him to
As if he truly love me.
But how do I know this isn't the devil in disguise?
How could I be sure that that pecan brown skin and bright smile isn't a fascade?
Those same green eyes that look so good to me
Could possibly be the ones that will hold my soul in captivity.
How do I know that you are these you claim to be?
Even though my heads spins when I smell your scent
And my knees buckle when you hold my waist
I fell in love accidentally
Running away from the possibility of pain
I never got the memo
Somebody should have told me
That there was a such thing
As a love as sweet as honey.

Untitled

Waiting hours upon hours
Watching the days slowly go by
Searching for the sun that might not shine
Praying to God who might not answer me
Or just simply doesn't have the time.
Maybe I'm too far gone
Maybe I've wandered away to a place unknown.
I've realized that i've been searching for a specific thing for so long
That I've managed to lose myself in the process
Piece by piece I began to fade
A shamed to ask for help
Too weak to get on my knees and pray.
Afraid that mine will go unanswered
All I can do is hope that someone can squeeze me in to theirs.
Only able to imagine better days
As I sit alone with my tears and fears.
Wondering why my pleads never seem to reach God's ears.
Sulking in my weak flesh,
Not realizing my spirit stands strong.
When my soul sings a blue song
I know who to call on
But will my cry be silenced by my many sins,
Because i seem to fall short time and time again.
I hope He will look past every one of them.
After all,
He is a forgiving God.
And I believe it.
Take away the clouds of pain, grief, and abuse
So me and the golden rays of sunlight can be re-inteoduced.

Poetry

I want so badly
To jump on you
And hug you tight
That you hear the beat of my heart
But that will never happen
Because God called His child home.

Sometimes I think to myself
Why would He allow me to get close to you
Only to snatch you away from me?
My feelings don't matter I see,
So I'm carrying this burden with me unintentionally
But the pain is slowly killing me mentally, emotionally, and now physically
An its not that I hate God or nothing
Because I love him unconditionally
But I just want to know why...
Why'd He have to take you from me?

No one understands what I'm going through
They don't know what it feels like to live life without you
And even if I began to tell them,
They still wouldn't have a clue
As to why I walk around with my face so blue
And its only because tears take form in my soul
Due to the absence of you.
People say that nothing lasts forever
And this is true
Because memories slowly fade away too
Unlike your flesh
Which left me before i could catch my next breath

And honestly,
I can't sleep at night
Because all I can think about is you
And I can't eat
Because then i try to remember all of your favorite foods
Even when i sing a song,
My spirit always ends up singing a song that you use to sing along too.

And i know its been a long time
But no matter how hard i try
I just can't pluck you out of my mind
And I'm trying not to sound insane
But my emotions are something that i just can't seem to tame.

Losing you showed me that life is short
And forever ends sooner than you think.
At sixteen even mine
And i feel like i'm rapidly running out of time
So i attempted to count my blessings
But i stopped at 999
But i had to take back the one with your name on the dotted line
Because 10 years ago
You ended up dying
And i ended up crying
And i know that i could never forget you
But for some reason,
I  just keep trying
And i try to fake the feeling of happiness
Which is basically the same thing as lying.

They say all wounds heal over time
But it's been ten years
And the wound is still open wide
Maybe it will close..... Hopefully.
It doesn't bleed blood
It bleeds words
Which is why i just carved my emotions in between these lines
And simply titled it  poetry.

The Houston Streets

These streets are hard and cold
Littered with bullet shells
Which filled a body full of holes
Stained with the blood of someone who may forever be unknown.

On the corner stands Missy.
Business has been slow lately
So she's hiding from a man she calls "daddy"
But secretly running from the emotion of the Missy that once was.

On the corner across from her stands Dre
Selling dope to his brothers friend Chris
Who only wants to escape the presence
In hopes for a better future.
Mother always drunk and pissed
Blaming him for his father's absence.

Dogs barking
Kids yelling
Mrs. Jones screaming
Because Mr. Jones is going upside of her head.... Again.
For something she probably didn't do.
As always.

Baby crying.
Tasha cries along with her.
She can't raise a baby alone.
She's just a baby herself.
Ricky doesn't care about her or his child.
He only cares about his mama and himself.

Sister Patterson going around Houston spreading God's word.
As if everybody did't know that her and Deacon Jackson have been sleeping together for six months now.
Well... Everybody except Mrs. Jackson that is.

Ms. Katherine is working three jobs to raise her grandchildren
Because her selfish ass daughter disappeared to Miami
In hopes of becoming  a Basketball Wife.
To get rich like Shaunie, Evelyn, and Tami.

The streets of Houston is a cold, dangerous place
Because a bullet has no name
And a knife doesn't recognize race.
The scars of pain are permanent.
They cannot be erased.

Some people will never know even a portion of what I'm talking about.
Because every hood is separate from the rest of the world.
So how could they?
They're only on the outside looking in.

Imprisoned

Why do you this?
Why do you trap me...
No...
Why do you IMPRISON me
Behind the steel bars of lies and fraud?
You knew.


You kissed me
Because you knew that my soul would fall victim to the burning passion of your lips.
Even if i tried
I couldn't resist
And you knew.


Wrapping your arms around my waist
Making the room spin
The scar on my heart your trying to erase.
That ugly scar that only you could create
You knew.


Whispering "I love you" in my ear
When you knew it wasn't true.
Killing me softly in a room full of people.

But nobody noticed except me and you.

You knew. 

All this time I spent trying to forget you. 

But your name was carved in my memory.

All this time i spent attempting to hate you..

But my love for you lingered.

All of the time i spent away from you,

I thought i was strong enough to finally face you.

But i wasn't.

And you knew.

You wanted to imprison me in your world.

To lock me behind the steel bars of lies and fraud. 

All it takes is a touch, three words, and a single kiss to lure me in.

And you knew. ❤

R.I.P

R.I.P to the son of Ms. Jones
The bullet had no name
But still claimed Tyrone as its own.

R.I.P to the son of Ms. Jones
The straight 'A' student
Who was also captain of the basketball team
And who was graduating in the fall.

R.I.P to the son of Ms. Jones
Who stepped foot on the hard streets of Harlem one night
Just to get milk for his mother.
Instead,
The mother of Tyrone Jones ended up identifying her son's body in the gutter.

Ms. Jones,
The woman who once gave a testimony every Sunday
Now sits quietly on the last pew of the church.
Having nothing at all to say.
Because her son recently met his maker.
Tyrone abruptly approached his judgement day.

Trying to find the silver lining in all of this,
Ms. Jones can't find not a single blessing in the painful mist.
Her soul has been beaten by grieve's painful fist.

Ms. Jones tries so hard to see the forest
But there's this one tree, you see.
Trying to see the light,
But the shadow of darkness always blocks her view it seems.

Tyrone's death didn't make the news.
Because to them
He was just another dead nigga in Harlem.
Another mess to clean up in the gutter.
Never did they think
That he left behind a pain-stricken mother.
As long as their check's came in,
They didn't give a damn one way or another.

The hurt became unbearable
Day after day,
"Bad" effectively morphed into "terrible"
Her soul was wounded.
She felt alone.
Only knowing one way to end it all,
She placed the barrel to her head
And pulled the trigger without a second thought.
Leaving yet another, "mess"
Only this time in her own home.

R.I.P Ms. Jones.
The beloved mother of a son who's name was Tyrone.

        

Mulatto Girl

My name is Yaya
and I am Mulatto
Because my mother was trapped in a world of pain.
Becoming Master ____'s bed wench
Birthing his children again and again.
I watch  her work in the fields
Only because of the difference of our skin.
Picking bundles upon bundles of cotton, tobacco and sugar cane.

My name is Yaya
And I am Mulatto.
The other children don't like me
Because their Mamie's told them I was Master _____'s daughter.
And everyday
They remind me that no matter how long and wavy my hair is
No matter how green my eyes are.
And no matter how yellow my skin may be,
I am still nigga.

But I know who I am.
I know what I am.
I know what the entirety of me consists of.
My daddy is white.
And my mama is a nigga.
Both of her parent's were niggas
Coming from a long line of niggas
Starting from the warriors of the Mandingo tribe of Africa.

But I....
I am not like any of them.
I am not white.
Nor am I nigga.
My name is Yaya.
And I am Mulatto.

The Meaning of Love

To be honest,
I don't know how to love.
Never,
In all of my years have I ever loved.

I don't know how to love.
I don't even know what love looks like
Because all I remember seeing was my father stumbling in the house late at night.
With a bottle of Whiskey in his hand.
His eyes were red with both intoxication and hate.
And my mother always felt his wrath.
Even though she tried to hide it from me
I saw how her white shirt was speckled red.
I also noticed how every morning,
their "love" left a new hole in the wall.

I don't know how to love
I don't even know what love sounds like.
Because all I ever heard were my mother's screams.
My father's shouts.
The loud "BOOM!" against the walls.
My mother was never beautiful nor valuable to him.
My father only described her as stupid, unwanted, unneeded, and replaceable.

I don't know how to love.
I don't even  know what love feels like.
Because all I remember was the feeling of fear
Jumping from my mother, onto me, and back again.
My father would tell her he loved her,
But soon after he would ball up his fists
And slam his "love" upside her head.
And yet,
she stayed.
So I remember feeling confused.

What is love?
I've never seen it.
I've never heard t.
I've never felt it.

Never in my life have I loved.
Because I don't know what love it.
But one thing is for sure.
I do know what love is not.

Your Side of the Bed

I open my window when it rains.
Because the soothing sound of the raindrops hitting my windowpane
Is more pleasing than the loud roar of loneliness.

And honestly,
I dread waking up in the mornings
Because I know that I will roll over to no one at all.
And be forced to wrap my arms around your pillow.
Funny how I have a king-sized bed,
But I don't have a king to share it with.

I'm tired of calling out your name
And not getting an answer.
I don't know how much more I can take of not receiving
The love and affection my heart desires.

Although you swear its not true
I sometimes feel as though my rank is number two.
Your career having all of you.
Almost as if you would rather feel the rush the stage consist of,
Than the red passion of my burning love.
Seems as though your married to your music,
And I am only the mistress.

And every time.
Every single time,
I see your bags pack,
My heart cringes.
And a part of me turns gray.
And I know you notice it
because you kiss me ten seconds longer than you did yesterday
Right before you leave me
To cater to your awaiting fans.

And that's why I make love to you the way that I do.
Because I have to schedule our love sessions.
So that's why I give you all of me
And leave your mouth wide open.
Because God only knows when the next time will be.

I see you trying though.
Because you call me every chance you get.
And text me throughout the day.
You even Skype me at night.
But trying isn't good enough anymore.
It's not the same.
I want to feel you.
I want to hear you.
When I wake up in the morning,
I want to be able to roll over and lay my head on your chest.
Instead of rolling over to no one at all,
Except the cold body of loneliness.

The Voice of a Mistress

I could never be as naïve as you.
You take the award for the worlds biggest fool.
Ever notice that "your man" is never home?
That's because he's lying  in my bed calling ME boo.

You may have his son,
But I have his daughter and his heart.
Looks to me like the other woman is actually you.

You aren't ready for the truth.
Trying to drown me in my flaws.
But quiet as it's keep,
The man you call yours cherishes my flaws and all.
An if i let you know that simple fact,
Under a rock you will crawl.

Going around town bragging on how lucky he is to have a woman like you,
Meanwhile,
Him and I are in the shower finishing up round two.

And yet,
You have the audacity to come at me....
CHILE PLEASE!
I don't owe you anything.
He's the one who promised you a wedding ring.
Not I.
So don't come for me talking all fly.
Be honest with yourself.
You knew I owned the twinkle in his eye.

You are so stupid.
And so foolish
That you try to shade my name.
When every night,
After I'm through,
I'm nice enough to send "your boo"
Back home to you.

Unpretty

The feeling of unpretty.
I can't shake it.
So I shower myself with material things just to fake it.

Some people may say I'm pretty
But the women in the magazines tell me otherwise.
Because my body isn't the same size
And because there is no twinkle in my eyes.
And not to mention my slightly larger thighs.

I'm unpretty because the span of my hips are wide.
They attract unwanted attention.
My breast enter the room before me.
Acting as my guide.

Unpretty am I
Because my stomach goes out further than i would like.

And honestly,
Every stretch mark on my body is like a battle wound to me.
Representing every time the wining  victory went to the feeling of unpretty.

I'm not pretty like Beyonce.
Syleena Johnson.
Syleecia Thompson.
Or even Janet Jackson.
Obviously I'm alone in the category of "ugly".
Accompanied by only the everlasting presence of unpretty.

And even if there was
Even an once of prettiness inside of me,
My flaws attacked it and left it to die in a pool of red defeat.

Everybody always says "It's so hard being me"...
Try not loving yourself.
Try being stabbed by the vicious thorn of unpretty. ❤

In the Atmosphere

"She" is out there somewhere.

Swirling in the atmosphere.

I try not to say "our daughter" 

Because that is a bond we never got to share.

I feel like I have failed as a woman, wife, and mother.

I wasn't strong enough to bring a child into this world.

Just the thought makes my heart shutter.

My husband blames me.

I can see it in his eyes.

Although my accusations he denies,

His face says otherwise. 

Perfectly can i hear his silent cries.

And I dont blame him.

It is my fault. 

Myself i don't victimize.

"She" is like the sun that never got the chance to rise.

Now "She" is only the twinkle in the pale blue skies.

I wanted to shower her with hugs and kisses.

To give her a lifetime supply of a mother's love.

But that will never happen. 

And it's hard for me to swallow.

My tears fall like there is no tomorrow.

I'm carrying a ton of weight right now.

So it's hard to move foward.

But hopefully I can find the silver lining.

And then maybe relief can be uncovered.

And then maybe i wont walk around with my head lowered.

And maybe,

Just maybe,

One day i will look up high 

And see her face in the sky.

Because my baby is out there somewhere.

Swirling in the atmosphere.

But yet and still i can't say "our daughter"

Because that is a bond we never got to share. ❤

I Am Your Woman

I am your woman
And you need to treat me as such.
I don't ask for much,
But now I'm demanding to be respected.
Cut out this foolishness that you do.
All these surreal lies that you tell me
Like my forehead reads "fool"
What business meeting has got you out until 12 at night?
And you continue to tell me the same lie
Even though I call your office and you don't answer.
You should really think of another excuse
Because that one will no longer fly.
Playing basketball with the boys you say?
Then why do you smell of Irish Spring?
What's that on your shirt?
Is that the red mark left by "Ms. Thing?"
And don't think I don't notice the absence of your wedding ring.
I gave you all of me.
Mind, body, and soul.
And all you do is chain me to misery.
But you won't keep doing this to me.
I DO know that.
I'll be damned if I go on your list of defeat.
The sad thing is,
This isn't the first time I've said this.
I feel like a record on repeat.
But you'll know when I get fed up.
Because it'll scare the hell out of the both of us.
When you walk in and your bags are packed waiting by the door,
You'll know that i've had enough.
Then we can go our separate ways.
Only because you betrayed my trust.
We can just lay our broken relationship on the filthy ground
And watch as it rusts.
But for now,
I am your woman.
And i'm tired of you not treating me as such.

The Exsistence of Me

Trapped between two worlds.
That's what I am.
That's who I'll always be.
Occasionally,
Those two worlds fight a bloody war inside the inner me.
Being the White Man's daughter isn't all it's cracked up to be.
The color of my skin and the texture of my hair tells only a portion of my inner mystery.
Born out of sin.
That's what I am.
The White Man saw the innocent girl.
He saw her because she was glowing even through the dark night.
Walking with her head held high.
He held her down and took the innocence out of her stride.
My mother is she.
I know a part of her hates the sight of me.
Because the blood of the White Man runs through my veins.
I have his eyes.
Even though they are green,
They still glow red to her.
Because those same Jade eyes pierced her soul that one night.
Sorry.
That's what I am.
I'm sorry that my eyes bring back tragic memories.
I'm sorry that I'm the product of her pain.
I'm sorry that the texture of my hair makes tears of sorrow form in the depths of her heart.
I'm sorry that the brightness of my skin splatter the walls of her soul with five different shades of gray.
Forever.
Forever will my inner me be a battlefield.
Tragedy lining the frame of my soul.
The word "sorrow" is carved in the beat of my heart.
The enemies that battle within aren't only black and white.
But I label them Black Angel and the White Devil.
Which seems so ironic.
With the man who sucked her life out of her body in only a single night,
She is forever linked.
My wounded mother is forever bounded with the White Man through the exsistence of me. ❤

Druken Serenity

This is dedicated to my cousin who recently passed away. ❤



One shot.
Two shots.
Three shots.
STOP!
Now my saddness has disappeared.
My soul is now numb to the pain that once lingered.
The minute the room starts to spin,
I close my eyes and enjoy the feeling of peace.
It may be temporary,
But i must have at least this hour of relief.
Although the blanket of sorrow will once again wrap around my body soon,
This temporary happiness is ,unfourtunatley, the only color in my gray skies,
I look for the answers to my problems at the bottom of the bottle.
I'm drinking my life away.
But maybe thats what i want.....
One shot.
Two shots.
Three shots.
 STOP!
A small part of me hopes i don't wake up in the morning.
But if misfortune happenes to rear its head again,
And i do, in fact, see the light of day,
I'll grab my best friend Skyy and be dead to the world.
Maybe even her sister Smirnoff can help me solve my problems.
And sort out the remainings of my life.
One shot.
Two shots.
Three shots.
STOP!
My flesh may be happy,
But my soul is drowning in troubled waters.
But even though this "happiness" I discovered will be over soon,
This hour of total serenity is yearned by my flesh.
Pain no longer lingers in my soul,
Only because the room is spinning.
I better enjoy this ride.
Because in an hour or so,
Pain will return
and chaos will invade my world once again.

Woman

This poem is dedicated to my brothers girlfriend.


You let this man take control of your mind
And hold your soul in the palm of his hands.
But yet,
Your still a woman...
How can this be so?
This man has your entire life at his fingertips
Your dancing to the beat of his drum.
But yet,
Your still a woman....
How can this be so?
When he says speak
Your mouth opens
When he says be quiet,
Your silent.
When he says stop,
You don't hesitate.
But yet,
Your still a woman.....
How can this be so?
Tell me how you can still claim your a woman
When your entire world is being controlled by a man?
You believe that what is between your thighs makes you a woman.
You are inncorrect.
That labels you a female...
You haven't mastered the art of being a woman.
A real woman.
A real woman is independent.
Graceful.
Classy.
And elegant.
She is filled with strength.
Refusing to be controlled,
But demanding to be respected.
A real woman knows that she was put on Earth to be more than a "company keeper" to a man.
But to be great at whatever her heart desires.
You are none of those things.
But you still claim the title "woman".
How can this be so?
Is your mind not brillant?
Do you not brighten up your own insecurities?
Can you not water the flower which blooms from within?
I think what it is...
You don't know your own value.
You settle for leas,
Not realizing you deserve more
You find comfort in the word "yes"
So standing on your own two feet and saying "no" feels funny to you.
My grandmother always told ne,
"Stand for something or fall for anything."
I guess you've been "falling" for so long,
You simply don't know what it means to "stand".
Are you willing to learn how?
And finally becoming the woman you were meant to be?
Or are you going to continue being your man's "yes woman"?
The choice is yours.
Just remember,
It's a big diffrence between a woman and a female.

P.S I Love You

Everytime I open my mouth,
My heart drops into my stomach.
The words dance around my mind
And run freely in my heart.
But for some reason,
The words won't make it to my mouth.
I try my hardest to tell you how I really feel.
Let you know that you mean something to me.
And just when I think that today will be diffrent
And I'll finally find courage,
My palms get sweaty.
My heart beats so loud,
I sometimes wonder if you hear it.
My legs start feeling out of my control.
They shake like jelly.
You literally knock me off of my feet.
A million goose bumps find a home on the surface of my skin.
My cheeks turn bright red.
You take my breath away without saying a single word.
Ibdon't know what it is about you that imprisons my words.
But it's like my brain doesn't communicate well with my mouth.
Or maybe my mouth is disobedient.
I know that I love you.
But it gets us nowhere if I can't say it to you.
I want to be able to tell you that you are the golden rays of my sun.
The sparkle in my clear ocean waters.
The beat of my heart.
Our souls match perfectly.
That's probably what scares me.
I never knew feelings like this exsisted.
And yes, I do.
I cherish every moment I share with you.
Instead of verbally telling you how I feel,
I'll write a letter and seal it with a kiss.
And because you love it when I wear it,
I'll take my red lip-stick and at the bottom I'll write
"P.S, I Love You ❤"

Nigga's These Days

It's sad that I have to call you a "nigga" to get your attention.
I can't reffer to you by your given name.
I got to call you "nigga"
Nigga's these days got their priorities all messed up.
Their minds aren't where they need to be.
Nigga's these days take the easy way out.
Selling dope and pimpin' hoes.
Applying themselves to something they should avoid.
Nigga's these days think that the world revolves around "swagg"
Last time I checked,
"Swagg" didn't pay bills.
Nigga's these days think getting girls pregnant makes them a man.
Ignorance is bliss.
Haveing a child makes you a father.
But, careing for that child makes you a man.
Nigga's these days limit themselves by using profanity and threats of violence instead of meaningful words.
Nigga's these days feel more protected by the cold metal of a gun,
Than the protection of God.
Nigga's these days will stand in line for the latest Jordans,
But wont stand in line at Wal-Mart to buy his child some diapers.
Nigga's these days believe a girl should be flatter when they call her out of her name.
Nigga's these days don't want to be known by the brillance of their minds but by the thickness of the bankroll.
Nigga's these days cover their bodies with tattoo's and wear their pants below their butt's.
And yet, they wonder why they can't get a job.
Blaming it on the goverment.
Nigga's these days claim to love their hood....
So why not do something to HELP your hood?
Stop selling dope to the son's of mothers
Stop pimpin' daddy's little girls.
Bring the children up right and be an example.
At least show them that there are other lifestyles other than the one you live.
There is alot of potential in nigga's these days,
But potential only takes you so far.
Rosa Parks didn't sit on the bus so nigga's these days could disrespect the elderly.
Harriet Tubman didn't risk her life finding freedom, for nigga's these days to be held captive by the streets.
Martin Luther King Jr. didn't march and lose his life, for nigga's these days to be reffered to as "niggas".
But if I call you by the name you were given,
You won't hear me.
And it's sad that I have to call you "nigga"
To get your attention.

No Tomorrow

This poem is dedicated to the victims of suicide. ❤



Was life for you really that hard?
You were bullied,
So you put a gun to your ear to silence the voices that pierced your heart.
Tomorrow could have been better.
But you'll never know.
Your mother passed away,
So you emptied a bottle of pills down your throat to ease the pain.
Tomorrow could have been better,
But you'll never know.
Your boyfriend broke up with you,
So you carved his name into your veins.
Tomorrow could have been better,
But you'll never know.
You were raped,
And because you felt dirty,
You laid your body on the ocean floor.
Tomorrow could have been better.
But you'll never know.
You lost a baby,
So you tied a rope around your neck.
Tomorrow could have been better,
But you'll never know.
You ended your life
Leaveing yesterday in the past.
Cutting today short.
Not giving yourself the oppurtunity to say "hello" to tomorrow.
I know that tomorrow could have been better than today.
But you'll never know the same.
You ended your troubles before the relief of tomorrow ever came. ❤

Say My Name Loud

This poem is dedicated to Syleena Johnson and Dr. Syleecia Thompson. ❤





I say my name loud
Because I'm proud.
I may not have the best life in the world.
But I have a path of continued success in my view.
God is with me.
So I say my name loud.
I remember where I have been,
And I know where I want to be.
I also remember the heroes who have paved the way for me.
So I say my name loud.
Everyday I discover something new about myself.
Both good and not so good.
Either way, I embrace it because it's apart of who I am.
So I say my name loud.
I may not be covered in diamonds,
But I still shine bright.
So I say my name loud.
I may not be able to "make it rain"
But I can make it drizzle,
Just a little.
So I say my name loud.
And yeah,
Sometimes I cry.
Not because I'm weak,
But because I've been strong for so long.
So I say my name loud.
I've accomplished things that many can only dream of.
And now I've been blessed enough to be able to teach and lead others.
So I say my name loud.
If I could,
I'd climb the highest mountain
And take a deep breath.
And because I'm proud,
I'll say my name loud.

A Hug From Daddy

Daddy,

I know you love me.

But you have a weird way of showing it.

When I was younger,

I would cry about it.

I use to hope that you would hug me.

And tell me you love me,

 just because.

I wanted you to teach  me life lessons that only you could.

I wanted you to be the example of what I should look for in a husband.

I guess you could say that I wanted you to be something that your not.

And now that i've gotten older,

I've realized that I can't change you.

And I have to love you ANYWAY. 

Because your my father.

I just hope that one day,

I can get a hug from you.

And be able to say

"I love you too." 

Dear Yaya

Dear Yaya,

You are beautiful.

But you have got to stop selling yourself short.

Stop doubting yourself!

Dont allow fear to invade your spirit.

Learn to love yourself.

If you dont love yourself, how can you love somebody else? 

You have more strength than you think. 

You were born into a long history FILLED with strong women.

Be powerful. 

Dont prepare to hear the word "no",

But expect to hear the world "yes".

The only way to achive your dreams,

 Is by breaking out of your shell.

Dont let your mind be the obstacle keeping you away from your goals.

You dont want to be the woman that says "Hey, when I was 16, i wanted to do ALOT of things. But i was scared." 

No! You want to be the woman who says "Hey, I had goals when i was 16. And look at me now! I've achived them."

Look at the women you look up to! 

Syleena, she never gave up! 

She didnt say, "Well i got a 'no' so i guess i'll just sit here." 

NO!

She picked herself up and tried again! 

Now look at her!

Syleecia,

She didn't say "Well this is hard. So.. I guess i'll just stop while i'm ahead." 

NO!

She kept going!

And look at her now!

DR. Syleecia Thompson!!

LEARN from your role models.

You can do this. 

Believe in yourself Yaya.

You are worth it.