Love

You Were Going To Be Special

I never knew what to say when they held my face in their palms and told me to feel something. 
I imagine you must think that I’m holding something down in my chest – that suppression is my attire and I don it to feel more in control. 
Baby when I feel things it is like leaves falling out of trees, emotions bumping your shoulder on the path down. 
I have only seconds to experience them before they break. They are fine like powder. 
I do not watch as they blow away. 
Why would I sit and watch my past rewind. It’s etched so clearly into my mind. 
Show me again that the shards of glass in this chest do not feel pleasant and that it’s harder to ignore the bleeding when you’re all alone and no one is there to tell you “I care.” 
I do not have the strength yet to risk my self
. When you deem to think that I have nothing to give you beyond silence and stares, remember that I have made the earth tremble and cry for the things I have felt… Felt as they dripped down from my chest, as they formed soft hands that rubbed his back and alleviated the pressure the earth put on those shoulders. 
I used to get high to laugh. 
Now I’m sucking tar into my lungs out of fear of something. 
I’m afraid of running – despite it all I live to see your smile.
Your laugh is undoubtedly the sweetest I’ve heard since childhood. And I can forget everything when I hear the heartbeat in that corner of your chest. 
I know myself, I know who I am. And I lived too long making decisions that benefitted nobody. But I made a good decision for you and I stuck by it despite my inner misgivings. I ignored my instincts for you. 
And you have proven no different than the others. I was in it for the long haul. 
Tell me, are you even worth it? 
I want you to tell me.

Pressure Headaches

Too many tears building up behind my eyes, 
They leak to my ears and now I have an ear infection. 
The pressure on my temples gives me a headache –
And pulling the trigger would be a cure-all-end-all… 
But I’m still weighing the consequences

The doorbell rang as I was cutting this out of me, 
And it was a police officer – I’m 18 so he told me my mum is getting summoned to court. 
Again. 
She’s undocumented so I felt my heart freeze,
Cuz as much as everything can be okay..
It can be very not okay too.

When I was a kid I heard a lot of my family 
Constantly spilling words like “papers” “imigração” “deported.” 
And I loved to draw so I made a couple pictures -
For my mum and dad you know, the family ones where we all stand and hold hands.
And I gave it to my mother and told her 
“Now you have papers, you don’t have to be scared anymore.” 
I think that was the first time I saw her cry. 
Now I’ve seen her with her head in her hands too many times, 
I wish I wasn’t the reason most of the time.

When my dad got sick I didn’t understand, 
But my heart did, and it forced my head down and made me leak tears from a faucet somewhere inside.
We watched him shrivel up with disease and lose hope, 
Struggle to leave his family.. 
He fought so unbelievable hard until God said we couldn’t have him no more 
And I touched my daddy for the last time – cold and sleeping,
In my living room. 
How wonderfully fucking ironic.

That faucet I still haven’t fixed and 
It’s four years after he died now. 
I don’t think I’ll ever have the strength to find a plumber. 
I’ll miss hearing the trickle when I’m alone in the dark.

Maybe it’s strange to think that the part of my childhood I care the least about now 
Is the part that made me cringe the most. 
When someone’s sweaty body is touching yours in places 
You’ve been taught to keep out of sight, 
And bruises places that will never see the light of day.
That happened over years I think – I know.
But I don’t care anymore, because I can shut my body off from feeling anything. 
And when I can’t turn it back on, I get mighty good at pretending.

This wasn’t supposed to be long 
I think I’m all done now

A Fucking Curse

It’s the curse of the teenage girl, isn’t it? Ridiculed at every corner. God forbid a teenage girl could have a passion for anything. God forbid a teenage girl could know what she wants. 
It’s a fucking curse. You fall in love, it’s bullshit. You’re talented, it’s bullshit. You love something, bullshit. You care about something, bullshit. You destroy something bullshit. Something kills you, bullshit! 
We’re all so trivial. Nothing we say has any weight, any precedence. Because we don’t know shit.
 What do we like? Who cares. What do we love? Who fucking cares. We hate ourselves and we’re called dramatic and self-obsessed. We love ourselves and we’re called dramatic and self-obsessed. Since when was loving yourself a character flaw? Fuck. I think it’s astounding. Why wouldn’t you want to raise a generation of strong, proud girls? I know why, because you’re fucking scared, and you don’t even realise it. Somewhere, in the back of your head, past all the patriarchal bullshit, you know what we’re capable of. And don’t look at me like that, I know what the patriarchy is, and that’s exactly my fucking point. You underestimate us, you reduce us down to silly little girls.
 In the back of your head, you’re scared for us to have voices, you don’t want us to have power. Because then, then we’ll speak up about the shit you put us through. And you know what? If you don’t educate us, if you refuse to educate us, we’ll educate ourselves. 
I am so, so sick of this biased crazy bitch-teenager idea. Being passionate doesn’t make us crazy. And even if we are crazy, so fucking what? It’s you who made us like this.
You, who raised your daughter to keep her voice down. You, who taught her it’s better to be meek. You, who told her she just drank too much, helped her throw out her ripped underwear, and never thought to ask questions. You, who told her sex was an obligation. And you, for telling her it’s a bargaining tool. Her desires aren’t natural. Don’t act, don’t speak. Repress, repress, repress. Repent, repent, repent. Be ashamed. Shut your mouth.
You shut it for her though.
 Every lesson, every time you ignored her need, you plucked out another vocal chord. And you kept going and you kept teaching until her throat was empty, and you stole her words and threw her voice box down a fucking well so no one would ever hear her speak again. And you think we’re the crazy ones? You’re draining the life from your daughter so you can stick it in a glass vial and give it to your son in law. 
You want us to be meek? You want us to be quiet. We’re fucking monsters. You made us, you’ve silenced us, and now we’re going to scream and scream until you notice.

Heaven

The hit smacks against my throat
Electric burn mutates into a steady hum
Delicious tingles run recklessly over my skin

We are giggling and touchy
Punctuating sentences with gazes
And skirting around this …
This… Something between us

We are light
Floating together towards who-knows-what
But happy in each other’s arms

You are not conventionally pretty
But your slanted eyes
And plump pink lips 
And your soft, curvy body 
Call out for caresses 

Strange that I have never kissed those lips

Yet I have touched those breasts
I have run my hands over your length
Whispering “you’re perfect”
As your breath warms my neck 

I have held myself tight against you
As you push back into me
I have relished the feel of your hands on me
We have loved each other

But I’ve never kissed your lips

I have slept beside you
Nuzzling contentedly into your side
Falling into a heavy sleep 
That I can only have when I’ve burned a nugget 
Or when I’m with you

I wake up to those lips
But they turn away from me
Mumbling of making coffee for you, babe 
You know my heart quivers towards yours
I want something more

But that’s why you won’t let me kiss your lips 

You want my body 
So I give you my heart
They want our bodies 
We give them our hearts

Enemy Lines

I am a vase 

I have a set purpose 
And loose instructions
I am decorated 

I hold no threatening hand
And yet I am used for the benefit
I am used wisely, correctly 

I am an envelope 
I hold a variety of things 
A gift, a loving word
Poison

I hold no gun to your head
And yet you still use me best
My purpose is carried through 

I am a dress
I change sizes and shapes
I reflect a multitude of colors
I am always beautiful 

I sneak no knife into your side 
But I am still worn to adorn 
I am still decorative and dazzling

You break me
Set me afire
Rape me 

I am fragile
I am flammable
I am controllable 

But you will not beat me:
I can be glued together
My ashes sent to glorious sights
I will heal 

Obstacles are set in our way
Only to make us grow in faith
In strength 
In experience 

I am a veteran 
I am your enemy
I am your prisoner

And yet from you I have learned 
And I will revolt 
And I will win

Now I know my enemy
This knowledge I have grasped in my mind
And my enemy is myself 

How You Left

You took one look at the thick of my cotton mouth, 
practiced pout, bare feet on floorboards 
and you pegged me as a runner, 
a thing always chasing its own tail, an animal, 
a little girl who means well but doesn’t understand 
that it hurts when she pushes other people down; 
you knew I’d shove you around, 
pick you apart like puzzle pieces, 
stick my fingers in your cracks and split you open 
to see the inside 
because I am so damn naive 
that I am always expecting a sweet, soft center 
even when there’s none to be had. 
You did not want to be smashed open 
and dived greedily into. 
You pressed your mouth to my fingers and toes, 
wrote prose into my palms 
where every other line began with “No” 
and ended with a reason 
that you could not bear to stay.

The One Who Truly Loves You

Marry someone who lets you have a bite of their brownie, even when you said you weren’t hungry. Marry someone who laughs at the same things you do. Marry someone who kisses your nose on a cold day. Marry someone who you can watch Disney movies with. Marry someone who is proud of you whether you earn £5 a week or £5,000 a week. Marry someone who you can tell everything to. Marry someone who isn’t afraid or embarrassed to hold your hand in public. Marry someone who lets you take over when decorating a cake. Marry someone who you can spend the day in Ikea with without feeling stressed. Marry someone who wraps you up inside their coat in the winter. Marry someone who accepts your fears and phobias. Marry someone who gives you butterflies every time you hear their key in the door. Marry someone who you don’t always have to shave your legs for. Marry someone who accepts you all day every day, even when you don’t look or feel your best. Marry someone who puts three sugars in your tea, despite telling them “just the two”. Marry someone who doesn’t judge you when you eat your body weight in cookies. Marry someone who doesn’t make you want to check your phone, because you know they will reply. Marry someone who waits with you to get on the train. Marry someone who understands that you need to be alone sometimes. Marry someone who gets on well with your parents and isn’t uptight about family events. Marry someone who calms you down when you get mad about stupid stuff, and never tells you it’s “only stupid stuff”. Marry someone who makes you want to be a better person. Marry someone who makes you laugh. Marry someone who you love. Marry your soulmate, your lover, your best friend.

Ash

I felt your lips like icy rain on my skin 
It made me shiver for a second before it made me shudder

I felt your desire like the hot, sticky breath against my neck
I turned my face towards you, not to kiss you but to take the tender parts of me out of your reach 
You went for my hand but it was my heart that wouldn’t grab hold

I can feel your sweaty body move against mine and feel fine
But hearing your heart beating against my ear feels like getting my chest ripped open
There’s a lot I try to hide inside 

You said lovely things but your voice is like hot caramel coffee
I can only take so much before it gives me tummy pains

When you told me to stop I ignored you, I was simply playing around 
When I felt your violent palm against my face I heard every word I had ever said 
Watched them fall through me and turn to ash
I felt myself blowing away

I can smell you on me, there’s not a scent more nauseating than the smell of our lust, sticky against my inner thighs 
I rubbed at myself with a fruity replacement 
But the sweetness doesn’t smell like me 
And that’s no better than smelling like you

I can feel you creep behind me
Saw the angry memory of your hands on me in colors that mar my light skin
The colors of a summers night sky
Deep blue, royal purple
A sunset – orange, red, pink.

I walked away as my heart stopped trembling at the thought of your eyes 
I washed my hands of the ills I wished on you 

When I think of your collarbone I don’t imagine a dip that invited my mouth
Beckoning for a kiss 
When I remember your dimples I don’t think of how they felt; the dip of those smiling cheeks left a pocket that was forever filled with cold air 

Your shoulders don’t beg me to hide between them
Playing hide and seek with your gaze

Is it strange? 
That I can move over you, can feel you inside of me, sleep beside you, moan and squirm beneath you…
Wake up and turn away from you?
That I can fuck you, but not hold your hand?

It feels like blasphemy.
Holding hands I mean 
It feels like a lie, sour against my lips. 
It feels like the ash in my mouth after I take 10 hits
I’m flying away from you

It feels like sin
You feel like sin

Native Americans

“‘This country’ is the United States of America. It didn’t exist before white people came here and founded the land as a nation. It was a dirt-living, savage, primitive civilization. Now Indians are running casinos. No more dirt-living for them.

Savage and primitive, eh?
Who domesticated corn, beans, squash, pumpkin, pineapple, peanuts, up to 3,000 varieties of potatoes (including sweet potatoes), chili, chocolate, vanilla, bell peppers, quinoa, cashews, pecans, artichokes, strawberries, cranberries, zucchini, paprika, allspice, and literally 60% of the crops the rest of the world eats?
Who invented diapers? (Hint: It was the Inca.) Who built the first ever observatory? (Hint: It was the Arapaho on Medicine Mountain.) Who had running water before Rome did? (It was Tenochtitlan.) Who had embalming before the Egyptians did? (It was the Chinchoro.) Who had compasses before the Chinese did? (It was the Olmec.) Who had convection ovens before the convection oven was even “invented”? (It was the Wampanoag.) Who invented the 365 day calendar? (It was the Maya.) Who knew there was a black hole in the middle of the Big Dipper thousands of years before NASA did? (It was the Lakota.) Who knew the earth moved around the sun while the Catholic church still taught that the sun moved around the earth, and made it illegal to teach otherwise? (It was…well, all of us, actually. Oops.)
Who was it who came to this continent and didn’t know that drinking out of the water you just shat in is going to give you cholera? Who was it who literally banned bathing, calling it “unspiritual” and “promiscuous” and even arresting people caught bathing in select states?
But, hey, good on your people for liberating us from our filthy existence and all that… We sure would be lost without you…
White people went so far as to arrest people caught bathing? Oh boy.

I’m laughing so hard! White people actually think the Europeans were more advanced than the pre-Columbian American civilizations. The only reason the Europeans took over is because:

1.) They go lucky that they had disease on their side.

2.) They had superior weapons, which they fashioned through gunpowder: a technology they basically got from the Chinese. 

Yeah, I went there!
Europeans actually STOLE the gunpowder weapon designs from the Chinese, there was no “sharing” of knowledge. If I remember correctly, China ain’t think too much of the Europeans either. They tolerated them out of courtesy and respect that comes with recognizing another sovereign power.
In fact, none of the older civilizations did. Somehow y’all wound up on top via savagery, foreign diseases from your questionable ass hygiene habits, and forging weapons whose designs you basically stole from other cultures.
Y’all would still be scratching in the dirt marveling at fire if it weren’t for the pre-Colombian Native civilizations and every other civilization you bulldozed over and pillaged from.
I can’t believe some white folks really fix their mouths to even say some shit like ‘You would be helpless without white people.'”