Wednesday, August 31, 2016


So you want to be black
You want to look tan all the time
You want to age like a fine wine
You want skin thats been kissed by the sun
So you want to be black
You want to leave the house knowing you might not come back
You want to watch security guards follow you
You want to look over your shoulder 
So you want to be black
You want to live in constant paranoia
You want to know that people will hate you with no motive
You want to feel like a stranger in a world that is yours too
So you want to be black
Well its not all its cracked up to be

Tuesday, August 30, 2016

Your Hands

I can still feel your hands around me
They feel like coffee sliding down my throat
They sound like my pencil writing in my journal
I can still feel your hands around me
They feel like my sweatpants hanging from my hips
They look like his eyes
Or feel like his hands
Or sound like his voice
I can still feel your hands around me
They loom in the background of every song I listen to
They hum the melody that wont leave my head
I can still feel your hands around me

Monday, August 29, 2016

A Movie

A boy was laying on the floor
A girl made popcorn
A couple cuddled under a blanket
Two opposites intertwined fingers for a moments
A girl watched a movie
A boy was too quiet
A girl lost herself in a blanket
A couple showed their friends an unusual display of affection
Two opposites thought no one was looking
A girl watched a movie
These seven huddled in a small room
Surrounded by brick 
They call this home
And each other family
A boy messaged his girlfriend
A girl fell asleep
A couple spooned 
Two opposites didn't look at each other
A girl watched a movie
A girl watched them all

Saturday, August 27, 2016

Take Him

Take him
If it's not me then I wont waste my time
Take him
He wouldn't have stayed anyway
Take him
You have a better body
Take him 
I only thought it was me
Take him
If it's not you why is he wasting his time
Take him
You wont stay anyway
Take him
I have a better personality
Take him
I had expectations
Take him
He wasn't mine anyway
Take him
You always do

Friday, August 26, 2016


My life is a constant cycle of 
Go talk to her
She likes you
And you wont know until you try
I watch my friends
Boys attached to their hips
Hands on them
Smiles made for them
My life is a constant cycle of
Go talk to him
I like you
I wont know until I try
I watch my friends
Love and hate boys in the same breath
Question their external beauty
Hope that these boys like them 
My life is a constant cycle of 
He wont talk to me
I still like you
And I'll wait my turn

Thursday, August 25, 2016

Your Favorite Clothes

Your favorite pair of sweatpants were hidden at the bottom of my dresser.  Your favorite shirt was thrown in the back of the closet.  I didn't touch them.  Then never moved.  The clothes you found attractive on my small figure had found a dark hiding place.  We were similar in this manner.  The slithered back into the shadows where they found comfort.  I threw those clothes away recently.  They found their new home in the bottom of a trash bag that took away my old life.  I felt bad giving someone else those clothes.  'Here, take his favorite clothes.  He loved the way I looked in them.'  I gave those clothes away so you would recognize me.  I gave those clothes away because I don't look like that anymore.

Wednesday, August 24, 2016

Rocky Mountains

I left my demons in the rocky mountains 
Hidden under the aloe plant
Tumbling with the tumble weeds 
I left my demons in the rocky mountains 
With the Spanish language 
And quinceanera dresses
I left my demons in the rocky mountains
On top of the Sandia Mountains
Skiing down a hill
I left my demons in the rocky mountains
Two hundred miles away
With the person I used to be

Tuesday, August 23, 2016

Tall Boy and Drunk Girls

Tall boys with liquid courage followed us
Blonde girls with tans danced
The liquid burning down their throats
They lost themselves
Hip Hop played and the bass bounced 
The boy in the corner handed out drugs
A pipe to blow yourself away
A girl watched a boy dance
Long tubes that leaked insecurities were in the bathroom
The girl who watched the boy followed
She watched girls drown in alcohol
She watched boys lose themselves down the stem of a bong
She watched them all hurt
She knew this was life
She found her limits
The tall boys disappeared
The girls passed out
And she was alone again

Sunday, August 21, 2016

The Hall

I couldn't help but think that this was nothing I could have expected.  We stood in the hall.  I watch the drunk girls stumble down the halls.  The boy stood next to me wondering about the girl in the white dress with the blonde hair.  The girl rushed down the hall after the drunk girl.  We all turned and looked at each other.  This couldn't be real life.  At least not my life.  I felt like I was living a TV special.  These people would push me.  These people would allow me to grow.  But this is not what I expected.

Saturday, August 20, 2016

These People

We sat amongst the grass
Nameless people in a quiet place
Holding on to lost hope
Desire dripping from our eyes
As we looked upon the clouds and the moon
Faceless people illuminated by flashing lights
Talking of old times unknown to each other
Hoping that our old times became our new times
We walked the sidewalks once crowded
This bunch of people didn't know each other
But they knew who everyone was

Friday, August 19, 2016

Travel The Road

I've traveled this road before
Going to and fro
Watching the mountains disappear in the dust
Looking out on the endless brush
Passing through small towns
Admiring the cows and horses that graze amongst the pecan trees
I've followed the train tracks through the dessert
I've traveled this road before
It took me to cactus and palm trees
It led me deeper into the dessert
It led me closer to new mountains
It led me to the land where my worries went to die
I've traveled this road before
It was nothing special
But every time I traveled down the winding highway
I knew I was going home

Thursday, August 18, 2016

Write Me A Song

If you write me a song I'll write you a poem
We can sit on the porch 
You'll strum at your guitar while you hum a tune
I will flip the pages of my book trying to find inspiration
If you write me a song I'll write you an essay
We can sit in a recording studio
You will collaborate with artists
I will scribble in my notebook, ideas that I've found
If you write me a song I'll write you a book
We can sit at my desk
You will sing me that song
I will type my book
If you write me a song I'll write about you forever
We could sit anywhere in the world
You will write songs
And I'll write you poems, essays, and books
If you write me a song
I'll let you live forever

Wednesday, August 17, 2016

Your Letter

I wrote you a letter yesterday
I know when I read it to you finally I will cry
I will be surrounded by family and friends
I will be in a white dress
Hair tied up nicely
You will be in a tux
A bow tie just below your chin
I wrote you a letter yesterday
I can see you when I read it
I can see your eyes
I can see your smile
I wrote you a letter yesterday
You don't know it yet
But I love you
I wrote you a letter yesterday
And it said,
"Dear future husband,

Tuesday, August 16, 2016

Where is I Love You

Where is I love you now?
I've never trusted words
The words of others have always failed me
I've always relied on action
It has always proven to me who people are
Where is I love you now?
Did you leave it in Mexico?
Did you leave it drowning at the bottom of the lake?
Or perhaps it never existed at all 
Where is I love you now?
Because I've never seen it
I've only heard it

Monday, August 15, 2016

I'll Never Understand

I'll never understand why I always come back to you.  Why is it that after all the hell that I've been through I am terrified to tell you about my life.  Why is it that when you make me so mad I still can't stay mad at you.  After you have played me and showed me your true colors I still wait for your text.  I promised myself that I wouldn't be that girl.  The girl who waits around for a boy.  The girl who stays with a man who never put her first.  But here I am after you have hurt me, just like the rest, hoping to see your name pop up on my phone.  I'll never understand why I always come back to you but I do understand that you have me tragically wrapped around your finger.

Sunday, August 14, 2016

This song

It was one of those nights again.  When the anthem of the house played on the loud speakers.  The song that played in my head for the past eighteen years.  This song was my parting gift.  One last concert put on for my enjoyment.  Any other noise was drowned out by this song.  While this time I was not being serenaded this time the song was always for me.  This song never seemed to get old no matter how many times you played it.  But this was a sad song.  This song reeked of heartbreak, despair, loneliness, and anger.  Each time a new theme arose, a new lyric was written, and a new verse was recorded.  Although I never really enjoyed this song.  I fought with myself every time I heard it.  My world went silent and all that I heard was the repetition of the song.  This song sounded a lot like raised voices and accusations.  This song was always for me with silent jabs and misheard words.  This song was a sad song.  This song wasn't a song at all.  This song was his argument against the world.  

Friday, August 12, 2016

The Moon

The sun went down that night to the sound of your voice.  The blue hue's of the night set amongst the clouds.  The moon rose that night with lost time.  The dark sky mocking me with its distance.  Almost as far as you were.  you were always my moon.  Miles away, illusive, but you always brought me home.  The sky, like silk, reminded me of the shirt you always wore.  The clouds, as they twisted, reminded me of your hair.  And amongst these beauties shinned the moon.  Forever the beacon in the sky bringing me back to you.

Thursday, August 11, 2016

The Girl

The girl who will love you sings in the car when she's alone, even though she can't sing.  The girl who will love you drinks coffee religiously.  The girl who will love you reads books to travel the world when she feels trapped.  The girl who will love you always has music playing.  The girl who will love you speaks French at random.  The girl who will love you will take photos of you everyday.  The girl who will love you is not broken even though it may seem like it at times.  The girl who will love you is a warrior who has fought battles you couldn't even imagine.  The girl who will love you will give you her everything as long as you give her your everything as well.

Wednesday, August 10, 2016

Written and Unwritten

I love you
An excerpt from a poem I've written
You are my sun my moon and my stars
You are the rain storm that I thrive in
I love you
An excerpt from a poem I won't write

Tuesday, August 9, 2016


When I woke this morning 
That's when I noticed 
The skin that I was in was dirty
The pollution in the air manifested on my skin
The dirt that I kicked up found itself in the cracks of my body
The grim coming from potholes layered me
I was a walking trashcan 
Covered in everyone else's dirty secrets
I felt their stress in the knots in my back
I felt their heartache in my writing
I felt the human pain that they were in
The burden of the world 
Weighing them down
And making them dirty

Monday, August 8, 2016

You Can Find Me

You can find me hidden between chapters and pages of books I've read and yet to read.  You can find me in the grains of sugar that go into my coffee.  You can find me between the keys on my laptop.  You can find me standing on a porch in the middle of a rain storm.  You can find me covered by wooly blankets on my bed.  You can find me searching the aisle of my favorite book shop.  You can find me picking apart pastries at the cafe down the street.  You can find me leaning on a tree at the park.  You can find me in many of these hidden places but where you will not find me is hiding between missed calls and texts; waiting for a man who never puts me first.  You can find me in the warm embrace of a hug but never in the warm embrace of his lies.

Sunday, August 7, 2016

South of...

South of Broadway
Where the divide normally was
There grew a group of people
Stitched together with reggae
There was a man on a longboard
Who danced while he road
There was a couple in love
And they weren't afraid to show it
There were people old and young
Black and white
Tall and short
Rude and kind
The group was a melting pot
Of apathy and empathy
These were the new buffalo soldiers
And they looked like the rainbow

Saturday, August 6, 2016


They all dreamed of living like kings 
Building their homes on Mount Olympus 
Draped in gold and pearls
Money coating the ground they walked on
In their thousand dollar shoes
They dreamed of living like kings
Hoarding their wealth
While saying they would always give back
Behind closed doors 
They bathed in their riches
This was the American Dream
A pipedream of wealth that would never happen
Because they never knew how to give back when they had none

Friday, August 5, 2016


I've tasted jealousy
It burnt like acid
Sliding down my throat
I know this feeling
When it nestles into a hole in me
Planting its roots deep within
I know the way it feels
When it kicks me to the ground
Winning the boxing match
I've tasted jealousy
And it looks a lot like the sangria you drank on a beach in Mexico with her
Or the sand on the beach in Florida
Or the shelves in the closet where your clothes hang
I've tasted jealousy
And it tastes like my morning cup of coffee

Thursday, August 4, 2016

Love Me

I don't think you know how to love me.  You don't know how to hold me when I'm feeling cozy.  You don't know how to make me tea when I call you crying.  You don't know how to run me a bath with lavender oil.  You don't know how to watch me read my favorite book.  You don't know how to talk to me when I'm stressed.  You don't know how to love me because you don't know me.  I know hoe to love me because I've had to.  I didn't always know what that felt like but I know it doesn't feel like this.

Wednesday, August 3, 2016

Your Stuff

For some reason I still have your stuff.  Your sweater is on the floor in the corner.  Your vase of flowers is on my shelf.  Your pictures are on my phone.  I don't know why I'm holding on to them.  It's been months.  You're with the girl who used to be my friend now.  You're leaving in a few weeks.  You still message me.  You still send me pictures of things that remind you of me.  And maybe that's why I still have your stuff.  Because it reminds me that for a small amount of time you cared.

Tuesday, August 2, 2016


Suddenly they all emerged
They came with congratulations and praise
They always came like this
When you get something you want
They come trying to claim a part of it
But where were they when it was happening
When I sat for hours in the dark
When I drowned my sleepless nights out in coffee
When I held knives to my wrists
When I was surrounded in loneliness
Suddenly they all emerged
Like they had been with me through all the bad time

Monday, August 1, 2016


Soon I'll be a stranger in a cafe
Reading a book 
Drinking coffee
Ease dropping on conversations
Writing papers
Listening to music
Starting anew 
Soon I'll be in a new place
Trying to be a new person