Red: Part 3

Lent. A time where Christians give up a habit for 40 days.

Yet. Here I am. Commiting to writing you a poem a day.

This is the only way I know how to love you. I am so glad you’re not religion.


Red – Part 2

Today I woke up to the sight of my bones collapsed around my body
And my heart hiding behind the shadows.
Where are you?
We’ve fought so hard.
We won battles and lost the war.

We’re tired.
We just want to hear your heart.
I have gone too many nights without saying goodnight.

Give me one fix.
One fix.
I won’t wake up with your name splashed across my pillow.
Tomorrow will be better.
It won’t feel like it’s been four years.
One last dose.
I swear.
Promise, I wont come back for more.

Read the first part here:

Red – A Series

I love you.
On most days I feel it coming up my throat and I have to close my eyes. So that the universe does not stand still. So that I don’t run back to you.

I love you.

Some days though, I have to pack it up and leave it under  my pillow and go on with my day.

It’s been four years – my heart stays faithful and true.


If you came to me with a face I have not seen, with a voice I have never heard, I would still know you. Even if centuries separated us, I would still feel you. Somewhere between the sand and the stardust, through every collapse and creation, there is a pulse that echoes of you and I.

– Lang Leav (Memories)

Day 22: Things People Say


The African Hippy

You’ll be fine
I wish I was as bold
So what is it you do?
Where do you buy your clothes?
Oh, but you’re so strong
I can’t place you
Wow, you’re pretty
Who are you friends with? I always see you alone
If I knew where you lived, I would follow you home and rape you
Love your outfit
At least you’re not vegan
Your hard work will pay off
You look like you should be in…
What do you write?
You’re different
I would NEVER do that
What music are you into?
And your parents are ok with the way you dress?
Smile sweetheart, you look angry
Have you ever lived in Europe?
Why do you still buy CDs?
I don’t know who told you it was a good idea to shave your hair, but…
Are you really black?
THAT’S your ex?
I like you

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An Open letter: Undeserving Part II

I tried crying over you.

About you

And for you
But all I could do was pace up and down.
My body shaking.
I took walks instead.
And rebuilt my bones
Laughed at you.
Laughed at how your body cried out when your eyes sassed me out of a crowd of a dozen people.
Tell me… Is this how hate works?
Your mouth loving me today
Breaking me tomorrow
And your eyes not too sure where to look after that?
All I’m trying to do
Is unpack the hate knocked in the small acts of some type of endearment.
I’m trying to find the hate in the moments of declarations.
It should have been brave enough to not hide behind your fears of loving and living.