You, boy

You, tongue twisting, smooth talking, ocean eyed, smoke in the air, playboy.

You, listen to this song I wrote, pretty boy.

Met you when I had deflated lungs, fractured bones, and dry lips.

Went to lunches with you, but only after we smoked.


You, I’m glad to have you in my life, You, manipulator, You, wonder-boy.

Never having to say please and thank you for never holding the door for me,

By the way, I can hold the door open for myself, but isn’t it just the right thing to be polite,

You, do you believe that was ‘actually’ a moment where you felt discriminated against,

You, never understood.


You, I keep women around for my ego, white privilege isn’t real, oblivious boy.

Spin my head 360 degrees for your entertainment, inflate smoke into my lungs with you.

I am a second chance extraordinaire, I’m really good at giving my time as if I had more than enough of it to go around, you, playboy, have taken my gift for granted.


I don’t value relationships with people, yet I didn’t hear a car alarm go off in my head.

Instead, I heard a fanfare of violins and cellos playing to the tune of your voice.

I hear the guitar you played for me that night,

the lyrics I created in my head when we were high.

That night where we got too drunk and felt as if we were never going to die,

never have to worry about my friend… leaving me for another guy.


You, I do not like the feeling of desertion. You, left.

I write about how I could drown in your eyes, no matter how bad it hurt me,

no matter how afraid I was to discover what was on this ocean floor,

discover a whole other layer of this dress and gown, you, long-haired pretty boy.


You, artist. You, poet. You, creator of the studio in your apartment.

I am so good at creating something out of everything, and then you told me that you were only trying to mend your broken heart.

I took mine out of the rib cage in my chest, gave you a piece of me to see if it will grow into a new heart, and instead,

you used it like a chess piece.


You, player of games, mastermind of the board,

I took your queen and yelled checkmate! and tossed your game out the window.

Honey, you just lost.


I am an affectionate person.

I prefer holding your hand and

kissing it than feeling you hold my

legs up while you fuck me.

I am an affectionate person.

I would rather hear about how

you became the person you are

than hear about how you came

with only the thought of me.

I am an affectionate person.

I prefer playing with your

hair while listening to you

talk about your day than

listening to you moan for me.

I am an affectionate person.

I would rather run my hands

down your chest than run

my hands down to your jeans

unzipping them and feeling

how terribly you want me.

I am an affectionate person,

I am multidimensional,

and I am a liar. I would do

all this and more just to feel

your skin on mine one more time.

you are brand new

shiny and red


are the full-speed-ahead kind of crush i needed

but will never cross the finish line


you took me places i didn’t think existed anymore

you took me on the road less traveled,

the places i,

closed off and boarded up.


you are the wind blowing in my hair while going 60 in a 40,

you make me brave

i used to say that i will never be able to taste love the same way again,

but after getting a taste of almost, i have a new pallet


i have been transformed and i have seen myself in a different light,

i no longer mourn the loss of him, he,

is no longer a phantom of my body,

i, am no longer haunted by the spirits of my past



are brand new


gave me the full-speed-ahead kind of crush i needed

but will never cross that finish line


there is a hole in the left door of the closet

bullet shot from the window straight through

the door is still standing even with a piece of it missing

maybe that’s how my own heart is

pumping blood throughout my body

even after you shot me down

Spring, 1999 (revised)

There’s a house on the South Side of Chicago on 63rd street,

where a four-year-old girl just moved in

It’s a house with a bright green lawn, freshly mowed, and two bushes in front.

You can see small purple flower buds growing underneath each one.

This house gave the impression of a home,

but this four-year-old girl already knew that this was contrary to the truth.


She looked at the house, and saw that this was nothing more

than a pile of bricks, cement and a few windows, and felt nothing like home.

This building was made on a foundation of infidelity.

This is not a home,

This is a house built on a broken marriage, already weak before she even got there.


It was spring. The flowers were growing, the rain had washed away all the debris;

this was a sign of a new beginning, but this house without the home of her father’s arms

felt too much like an ending.

Her thickening soft black hair whips across her baby skin, and she sheds tears that are

heavy enough to drag her to the ground.

She sits on the edge of the sidewalk.

The four-year-old cries for her father,

asking why he can’t stay in this strange house with her.

Her father comforts her while she cries, he says


We will be together soon, do not worry,


Her cantaloupe heart could not understand why

he must do this, why he must leave. She was

trying to understand why her world must come to an end.

And then, just like a cantaloupe being left for too long, her heart begins to bruise.


As he walked away, she listened to the heel-toe click of his footsteps,

and thought to the beat of his step

there’s no place like home

                        there’s no place like home

                                    there’s no place like home

Qualities of a Lover

call me a gift

tie me up in ribbon and present me to your family

tell them how you bought me with your wit

how this sale is final

and I will never be re-gifted


call me your angel

pin wings on my back

teach me how to fly

and show me what it feels like to fall after the high


call me the morning sun

soak up the rays that pierce through my heart

feel the radiating heat between the sheets

and the way my hands curve up your sun-soaked spine


call me a breath of fresh air

fill up your lungs with my perfume

let them expand and collapse with Chanel

so that I may always be with you when you breathe

starry night

stars light up the sky

becoming a colony of love

i’ve never seen so many stars

under the same sky before

my neck extends and i can’t stop

imagining my soul becoming covered

in stars, i cannot stop imagining my soul

as a star. there’s a myth that every

star in the sky represents a soul

i wonder what collection of stars my soul

is made up of

— my soul is meant to be admired

ocean eyes

i am standing at a great precipice between

the ocean and a river of my own blood

the ocean looks so inviting and


i am drawn to its depth

i know that i will fall

drown and

die if i step off this precipice into the

abyss but it is more appealing than

standing in the river of my own blood

for another four years

— your eyes make me feel like i’m drowning

you were the last person in my life to touch me

your hands created a rippling hurricane that

destroyed any kind of hope i had for the future


you were the person that set the curve for what

love is supposed to be like, you have painted the

image of love in my mind in thick red and black

acrylic paint


i chipped off the red and black

i repainted the walls of my mind in yellow and blue

i destroyed the curve you set and created my own

standards of love and i made it a self-portrait


when i think of you, i no longer feel the longing

i no longer feel trapped i don’t feel your hands on

me anymore searching for more than i was ready

to give


i finally have lungs to breathe

a heart that beats

and hands that no longer feel like yours


i am free from your grasp

free to feel again

to experience life without the

fear of you bumping into me

along the way


i am no longer your prisoner


–  thank you for setting me free

you are uncomfortable

seeking to find a greater truth

than the one you’ve come to

learn, trying to find

comfort in


you are afraid

trying to learn how to see light

in the darkness, aware of

the unknown, you search for


or someone, to protect you

you are alone

searching for someone to

help you realize your

irrational fear of

large windows,

where people can see your every


feeling, and

desire. you are waiting for someone

to pull down the blinds, and

disappear inside your mind with you

you are strong

there is not a thing you couldn’t

handle, conquering all the

obstacles you’ve placed

in front of yourself, there is

no sense of failure

you are fearless

unafraid of the unknown,

you look straight through the dark,

walking endlessly, you

do not look back in fear of

forgetting something along the way

you are complete

with no need of someone to

pull down the blinds, hiding you

away from the world

the large windows in your mind

shine the light in, and

you are bright without

irrational fear of


so open up the blinds,

you are to be shared with the world

— i am multidimensional