Loving you

Loving you Was that first drop of rain

After a long drought
Loving you

Was the feeling of starting over
The butterflies soared

As your laugh echoed

In my ears
Kindling a fire in my heart

I thought had been permanently smothered
I never thought i’d let someone in again

Never thought i’d even get close
But meeting you was like hearing a new song and

Knowing it would be my favorite
Loving you was peace

Amid the war raging in my mind
Loving you was like finding a new book

Getting lost in the pages of your life

Learning your story till I knew you 

Like the back of my hand
Loving you was a release 

Most of all

Loving you 

Helped me love myself 

Desperate

You feed off my desperation

To escape

From your hungry gaze

Because I do not feel safe

Walking across town

Without talking on my phone

Because then maybe you’ll leave me alone

Hands clutched on my purse

Eyes straight ahead

Dont you dare make eye contact

Or you might end up dead

Pick up the pace

But don’t make it look like a race

Because then you might entice him to chase

Hunt you down like the predator he is

Making you the prey

Making you another statistics

For activists and politicians to add to their board

In this god awful game of life

You’re about to lose

Because I’m a Woman

Because I’m A Woman..

There is a 1 in 5 chance

That I will be sexually assaulted during my 4 years of college

 

Because I’m a woman

I won’t be able to walk home alone at night

Without my right hand on my pepper spray

And my left hand on my phone

 

Because I’m a woman

Men feel like they own me

Like they can whistle at me however they please

Make kissy noises

And grab my ass

Block my path

Strike fear into my soul

Wondering if i’ll make it home alive

 

Because I’m a woman

I’m terrified of going off to college

And becoming another..

Statistic

The big bad streets of Manhattan may chew me up

And spit me back out

The night my ride ditches me

And I’m alone

 

Because I’m a woman

I have to let a friend know

What guy I’m with

Where I’m going

What kind of car her drives and his license plate number

Just in case

I’m not home on time

 

Because I’m a woman

The harassment won’t stop once I leave college

Because my workplace can be just as dangerous

 

Because I’m a woman

I should take it

Stay silent

Be ashamed

 

Because I’m a woman

People will call me a slut

Say I was asking for it

Demand to know what I was wearing and where I was

 

Were you drinking?

Where were your friends?

Why were you out so late?

 

Who gives a damn what I wear

Or where i was

They say that often you’re assaulted by someone you know

 

When are you going to start asking the right questions

Hold the assailant responsible

 

When will I feel safe enough to walk across campus with calling

For a security escort

When will it stop being the victims fault

When will men and women be held accountable for their actions

When will I be free to wear what I want

Without worrying that it’s too much

That it’ll provoke and justify an attack

 

When will society really open up its eyes

We say we understand

We sympathize with victims

And bash on rapists

But every day that goes by

More people fall victim

To this horrible injustice

 

Every 107 seconds another american is sexually assaulted

What are you gonna do about it?

 

Just

I am not just a girl

I am amazing

I am not just a student

I am an innovator

I am not just a body

I am a person

I am not just a pair of lips and eyes

I am not just something for you to pass the time with

I am not just some fun

I am my own person

I am opinionated

I am worth something

I matter

I am not just anything

I am everything that I want to be

 

Sticks and Stones

Sticks and stones

May break my bones

But words

will never

hurt me?

What if I told you

That every single one

of your words

Cut me like a knife

They shot through me

like bullets

What if I told you..

that your words haunt me to this day

And that when i look in the mirror

I hear them echo in my head

Time does not heal all wounds

It simply dulls the pain

Temporarily

But that pain comes back

It comes back with a vengeance

It comes banging on your door

When you have sunk to your knees

Head in your hands

As you scream “WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?!”

It laughs in your face and proceeds to tell you

Everything that’s wrong

Too much acne, not enough makeup

Too skinny, you have no ass

I laugh

Yesterday I was too fat

Today I’m too skinny

I pick myself apart

Piece by piece

Your words don’t hurt?

What about when somebody

tries to compliment me

and I reject it

That doubt in the back of my head

“They must pity me”

Because it is that hard

for me to believe

that someone

finds me beautiful

Yet I’m still constantly seeking

Validation

You! You sir

Do you find me beautiful?!

Oh please sir

say im beautiful

I spent an hour this morning

Try to make myself pretty

Kind sir please tell me im pretty

*Laughter*

It doesn’t matter if I’m pretty

My soul is ugly

Beaten and bruised

Cut and scarred

from when I tried to

piece myself back together

I failed

For I have lost myself

I lost myself long ago

Trying to make myself

Into what you believe

Is a perfect woman

But of course I’m the idiot

Who believed that

Perfection was a standard

That could be met by any human being

So yes

Sticks and stones

May break my bones

But words..

Will cut me deeply.

Trapped

The feeling of being

Trapped

Inside an invisible box

A box with mirrors

that only goes one way

You can see them

But they cant see you

“HELP!”

You scream

“HELP. CAN ANYBODY HELP ME?!”

You beg

But you are trapped

And the box begins to fill with water

The louder you try to scream

The more silent it sounds

You can only help but watch

As those around you

Continue to walk on

But you are stuck

The water fills the box

You go under

But wait

You’re breathing

You’re drowning but

You’re alive

Wide awake

Alert

You try to scream again

Bubbles

You bang on the walls of the box

“FREE ME. FREE ME!”

Your brain shouts

But if only this box

Were as fragile as your soul

You let go

No more fighting

No more screaming

You succumb to the darkness

You finally think the pain is over

But just as you breathe your last breath..

Oxygen

Bringing you back to life

You gasp for breath

Astonished

You were on dry land all along

This is what it’s like living with depression

Only that invisible box is your mind

And the one-way windows

are your eyes.

Shattered

My perspective on love

Shattered

You were my safe place

Shattered

You were my person

Shattered

You were my morning kiss

Shattered

You were my prince

Shattered

You were my 3rd periods

my lunchtime date

my good night text

my late night call

SHATTERED

You were my welcoming eyes

Open arms

A loud contagious laugh

shattered

because..you were

 

Temptress

My body is a temple

And you tell me that

You’ve come to worship it

 

You tell me that

You love me

But love doesn’t feel like

Bruised wrists and red eyes

 

Love isn’t screaming no

As your coarse lips press against

What you call

My caramel skin

 

You proceed

As if my desperate cries

Were an invitation

 

You proceed

Because you believe

You deserve it

 

You are not entitled to me

Just because you are drowning

In lust

 

My body is a temple

And I must guard it

On long walks home

With beady eyed men

Whistling at me

Like I’m some bitch on the street

 

Like i come on command

Obedient

I will not kneel before you

 

My body is a temple

I am the god who it was made for

I am the one who makes the rules

 

The only person I answer to

Is myself

The only person who is allowed to consent

Is me

 

My body is a temple

And you will not destroy it

 

An Open Letter

An Open Letter to Harold Bloom

 

Dear Mr. Bloom,

Screw you.

In the Spring 2000 edition of the Paris Review

You were quoted saying “I can’t bear these accounts I read in the Times and elsewhere of these poetry slams, in which various young men and women in various late-spots are declaiming rant and nonsense at each other. The whole thing is judged by an applause meter which is actually not there, but might as well be. This isn’t even silly; it is the death of art.”

The question I have for you is, why?

What makes you entitled to declaring a form of poetry lesser

Who gave you the title of poetry master

Why do you believe it is nonsense and the

“Death of art”

To many people of all ages slam poetry is a release

A way of being

Expression

Slam poetry is releasing the pent up emotions in a beautiful form

Liberating yourself to an eager audience hanging on to the every word

That falls from your lips

Slam poetry is passion

Not bounded by the structure of traditional poetry

It’s taking a leap of faith

Bearing your soul to a crowd

And getting hooked on the high

Not just the applause, no sir

No

We are hooked on the rush

When someone thanks you

For putting into words the things they’ve been too afraid to say

When a stranger hugs you

When they tell you they’re proud of you

When you bring tears to eyes and smiles to face

That sir, is called connection

Maybe you’d know a thing or two about it

If you opened up your mind

And listened to the millions of people

Finding their voices

What did I do?

To deserve this punishment

Seemingly eternal

I have been damned

Trapped in this mind of mine

Fighting the negativity that loves

To consume me

What did I do

To deserve endless nights of self pity

Drowning in my thoughts

Slipping away

What did I do

To deserve pain like this

I scream when nobody’s around

The sound clawing out of my throat

The only release i have

What did I do to deserve

That forced smile on my slips

The fake laugh

Pretending my mind is not a battle ground

Ravaged by depression and anxiety

Wrecked by a tornado of hatred and negativity

My body is a ghost town

I tell you that I’m okay

I’m not