Exchange

He is dark.

His hair is nappy.

His stature is tall.

And I love the way he calls me “baby.”

That is fact.

Never have I actively courted a man a day in my life.

I’ve always been the one desperate for “love me and fuck me so I know I’m worth it”

But he doesn’t push it.

I am fully enthralled by his persistence.

His subtle pokes at “us” in the long run

He treats me like he’s my one.

Like I’m his only-

because lonely stayed 2 ½ years too long

and he’s ready to give.

So am I.

When shall we make this beautiful exchange?

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1-30 |Bloodletting|

It’s time to bleed again.
Time to turn pain into pleasure
Confusion into peace
Respite, release from the demons whispering “you’re better off deceased.”

I know there are years inside of you.
Years that melted together making it impossible to break free.
And you wanna be free, don’t you?
You’d give anything-
Submit to anything-
You’ve tried damn near anything
And chaos is all it brings, to date-
The only thing that works is sitting and inking
Let it bleed.

Let’s get free.

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The Love Series: Him

I love you, for my Brain and heart says so.

There is no other place than I’d rather be than in your presence-

You are my blessing.

You are my King.

You are my Guyanese love thing.

My frustrations,

My tears-

The one I desire for the rest of my years.

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An Honest Conversation With A Friend

Most days it feels like the end of the world.
Like I am the only girl stuck in a downward spiral,
screaming but never heard. Pleading
and barely breathing, hoping that the God I believe in saves me.
Most days I feel incomplete.
Like God’s biggest joke, someone’s reluctant Plan B strategy-
I am lost.
And grieving.
And being, 
simply being,
is too painful.
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Black Woman Mantra

Say it with me one time

Say it with me two times.

Make it three times, dark child:

I am Black woman strong
singing my freedom song
I am night turned into day
I am whatever I say
And I say,
I am Black Woman Strong.

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Last Love

This is for yes,

This is for no,

This is for holding on to hope when you had nowhere else to go.

This is for sunshine,

This is for rain,

For the time he said “I love you”

And that time you forgot  his name.

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Freedom rings,

Or does it knock?

Am I deaf?

Or is my hearing blocked

by what I am,

and what I am not?

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