She was the strongest storm I ever came across

I was born at sea but she—

She was the strongest storm I ever came across

I write this as I sense I have entered the eye

A brief moment of calm

But I feel her stirring even within this peace

The sounds of waves crashing

Crashing 

Crashing

Lower now, but they will rise again

—the moon sides with her

As the tide pushes and pulls me at will

The sun barely peaks from in between the cloudy sky

And as I steer my ship

I feel fresh droplets on my copper skin

cold and numbing

Yet still in love with the powers

Surrounding me. 

Respectfully, I bow my hat to her 

Airing out the cold sweat 

Hanging on to my blanket of hair. 

The eerie calmness 

Pushes me to sing to her

Deep and honestly 

I challenge her 

To let out her rage,

Her worst 

Onto me

And that I, 

I will sail on

And into her. 

My Break-Up Poem on Vday

There’s only so much of that black mamba that a woman can take 

There’s only so many times a woman can watch her love be given away 

to men like Shipe and Josh

While she stands feeling bashful and alone. 

You will never understand

The betrayal 

I feel with every moist kiss y’all share

—Oh! Your sweet slurp and your innocent moan,

Even your little mischievous giggle haunts me in my dreams…

I repeat all of our 2 dates in my head 

Over and over again

Wondering, was it that popcorn fight we had during Kick-ass 2 because your ass fell asleep? 

Is that where it all went wrong? 

Or was it my whiskey pussy at Zach’s bonfire that tore us apart? 

I keep finding ways to blame myself

And maybe you will find a way too,

Always so insecure about the love I once shared for Jasmine Michelle Luckey

While in reality you had your own infidelity!

And I refuse to settle for this kind of 

Miscommunication, 

A relationship built on feeling bashful in the kitchen,

But no, there is no going back to the Petersburg days anymore…

The cat is out of the hat,

The bashfuls are on the prowl,

And so with that, Billy Beasley, I’m leavin’ you for the groove, baby! 

My Discreet Letter to Unrequited Love

If Love Love Love = Happiness

Then why is it that I have so much love and yet I am still suffocating?

Choking, coughing up emptions that I cannot express to you.

Unrequited love

Unrequited, I – was never too into it.

Who is interested in a relationship of

1 + “I’m not in love with you and nor do I want to be” = ?

Maybe it’s all that love that was left over from my past,

Just overflowing my body because I could not truly give it,

My inability to release

Causing my heart trouble with its beating,

It’s overheating

Because it just wanted to love.

There is no larger injustice to my being

Than lacking me of love

—both giving and receiving as well as keeping a hold of it in my heart.

So Unrequited Love is totally my thing.

There’s nothing quite like hopelessly (and too hopefully)

Loving someone who will never truly accept it or love you back,

To tear you apart.

Sitting on the sea-saw

Of wanting to love them immensely anyway

Or hating every ounce of love so obviously slipping from your sad dog eyes,

Only working towards a compromise,

Convincing yourself to accept defeat each time you lie next to another body.

You want to move on and maybe you try

But at the end of it you know your true desire lies with them.

It only reinforces your forbidden feelings,

When you wake up remembering the love you’ve been fighting to forget.

And the days when you may feel a spark with someone else,

You question if you are even ready,

If you have healed or if you’ve even begun the damn process

And you may feel guilt, feel wrong

For even pursuing the thought of another while you are knowingly

Stuck crawling on your knees, deep and dark

In the mud of their love.

The soft, wet dirt

And steaming rain which they have left you in

—crawling, choking, suffocating on LOVE.

Oh, Unrequited Love, (I have always been a fan…)

Dear white boy,
You don’t get to text me on the second day of a new year
And ask me where I am.
You don’t get to know my whereabouts.
You don’t have the right to wave at me in public
Because no one but me
And every other one night stand
Knows what happens when intoxication mixes with I don’t want you
But I wanted to forget /you/
And the way advantage can be taken
So easily like it was dripping onto
Your fingertips and you didn’t want it
To spill all over the floor,
Picking me up was your only consolation to still being a man.
A man
Who holds no genuine respect for
Me.
So yes, your text on January the 2nd disgusted me.
You must not understand what you did
Because if you ever felt the same shame and emptiness in your heart and body,
You would take the letters N O so
Seriously that if you ever loved a girl,
Your mother, a sister,
You would fall to your knees whimpering at the thought that your senseless, your manhood, your privilege would be so blind
And overpowering
So much to hurt another individual
And only to ask months later,
“Where are you”
I am away
And I will stay away.
I am not afraid, I am only understanding
Of my position due to my genitalia
And the ways in which I must take caution because of who I am
In order to avoid the shame and emptiness which comes with
Being a woman.
Because you don’t get to text me on the second day of a new year
You won’t get to make me feel
Worthless because I’ve had a few shots and a few beers.
But maybe one day, you can take your head out of your privileged white boy ass
Open your fucking eyes
Close your hands
Shut your mouth
And listen to a Goddamn woman
When she says NO.
Sincerely,
A woman who will never desire you; a woman who will always value herself.

I want to fall asleep
Into a deep, old slumber
And wake up in your arms again
Wake up to the day I began
Falling in love with you.
Back to a time where
I was confused but desired you
And smiled into you
Every morning.
It’s funny how I’m finally out
And when I am finally out
I want in.
I wanted to forget you
I fought to get you out of my head
But now that you’re gone
I find myself alone
And wanting to desire you again
To have you again
Even if I solely desire you,
I want that raging fire
To rip me apart
Over and over again
Because the pain of your love
Fills me up so much more
Than the gaping hopelessness
And emptiness of lying in my bed
Sleeping and never wanting to wake up
Struggling to make that simple
Step to come up from under my sheets.
Because when I loved you
I wanted to live for you
And waking up
Meant waking up to you.
I want to wake up
Again.

Don’t kiss me

because it means nothing to you

but it means too much to me.

Stop kissing me

because I don’t want your furious 

biting and pulling me in

to really, pull 

me in.

Don’t look at me with those

arrow-like eyes

because they kill me every time we say good bye.

Don’t let your body

flirt with mine,

the way it invites my fingers

to curve around your waist

and stroke your hair

to comfort both me and you.

Don’t desire me at all with your fleeting lust

while instead I desire you

—in the worst ways possible.

I feel crippled when I’m with you

Crippled with all of my emotions

And my lack of clarity

And closure.

I don’t know if my ears

Can take another word from your

Voice.

If my touch receptors can take

Another mad signal.

If I can feel

Any more

Of you.

If I take any more

Of your lips

Smiling

In front of my stupid, hopeful eyes.

I can’t take lies

I only want honest

Emotion

The truth

Is apparent to me

But where is it when it comes to you?

Nothing lasts forever

Except for God

You will always be lost and existential

If you don’t find meaning within

Your own existence.

It is so frightening to constantly seek and want so much 

of what has been so horrible to you.

.

I left my first love because he could never love me.

My second love left me because she could never love me. 

It’s more complicated than that, of course it is,

and maybe I have been loved

but I never felt it,

only gave it,

lost it more than gave, I guess,

somewhere through the internet and world of satellites 

it got lost

somewhere through my words

both written and spoken

it got lost

somewhere in the not-even-an-inch apart cracks between us

and our fingertips which let go more often than were held together.

.

I like to think that the reason

I don’t have much of an appetite

for food

Is because I have a huge appetite

for love.

.

And I will never understand this foolish craving,

my childish but unapologetically human, desire.

I’m not Indian

Because I don’t want to be

I’m not Indian

Because India never accepted me.

My young motherland’s hands

Are stained with years old blood

The struggle and pain of Sikhs

Is not a lone struggle,

As the same land is burdened

With never taking responsibility

For many other atrocities.

1984 is only one large example

Of injustice.

If a government can encourage and then ignore the genocide

They perpetrated

On the same group of people which

Fought for an Indian independence,

Then what hope can we have

That they could behold any other

Sort of humanity

Or compassion to build a better

India

For the Indians in it.

Everyone is money and power hungry

I am irrelevant in the grand political scheme

And furthermore, I am a woman

So now tell me I am accepted by the same streets

On which my own aunt lives but

Was followed home by a truck of teasing men.

—Dare to tell me

I am Indian.

The seams in my jeans
resemble a road,
just another hidden path
taken by many hitch hikers
and wander-lusters…
—Even Robert Frost lied about the path he once took.

The seams in my jeans

resemble a road,

just another hidden path

taken by many hitch hikers

and wander-lusters…

—Even Robert Frost lied about the path he once took.

Maybe I don’t know who I am
behind my smile
But I’d rather you see my smile
than anything else.

Maybe I don’t know who I am

behind my smile

But I’d rather you see my smile

than anything else.

I save up all my writing like it’s my most prized possession

I copy and paste it from one place to another just to make sure I’ll never lose it

I save it up like a piggy bank

or an empty pickle jar slowly filling up

so at the end of the year we’ll still have enough money for Christmas presents

I save up my emotions,

my happiness

and my bottled up sadness

In the words that I feel

Understand me better than myself

And bring me closer to understanding the paradigm of life.

My words are the whisper of my soul

And the whirlwind guiding it.

Not a day goes by
That I don’t think about the
Haze.
The fading away
And numbness
Associated with breathing in Sativa
And having her tightly and lovingly
Embrace my body
As I slowly fall asleep
Comfortable
In her hold
The way she makes my eyelids droop
As a signal that my body has accepted her too
And the pain and burning sensations in my throat
Never brought me more pleasure
Than when I was with her
Many times I woke up
With her taste lingering on my tongue
Only making me appreciate
And crave her more.
She understood me
And accompanied me more than I wanted anyone else to, while
Episode-binging on Scrubs
Munching on fruit
Or just being happy and inquisitive in my own thoughts
While lying in bed.
She was so simple of a solution
That I overlooked any other way
Of coping.
I fell in love with Sativa
But I was afraid we committed too much, too fast
We developed a love-hate relationship
In which I loved her
But my body had mixed feelings
On whether she really loved me back
Or was just consuming my humanity
Little by little
And maybe she was really just
Taking advantage of a seemingly lost and defeated soul
Because I never minded that she was so clingy
She developed a habit in me
I always asked her to stay
But one day
She was taken away
From me when I least expected it
And I had to let her go…
She still lingers in me
But months from now
All traces of her
will be gone.
She will be gone
She will.

Not a day goes by

That I don’t think about the

Haze.

The fading away

And numbness

Associated with breathing in Sativa

And having her tightly and lovingly

Embrace my body

As I slowly fall asleep

Comfortable

In her hold

The way she makes my eyelids droop

As a signal that my body has accepted her too

And the pain and burning sensations in my throat

Never brought me more pleasure

Than when I was with her

Many times I woke up

With her taste lingering on my tongue

Only making me appreciate

And crave her more.

She understood me

And accompanied me more than I wanted anyone else to, while

Episode-binging on Scrubs

Munching on fruit

Or just being happy and inquisitive in my own thoughts

While lying in bed.

She was so simple of a solution

That I overlooked any other way

Of coping.

I fell in love with Sativa

But I was afraid we committed too much, too fast

We developed a love-hate relationship

In which I loved her

But my body had mixed feelings

On whether she really loved me back

Or was just consuming my humanity

Little by little

And maybe she was really just

Taking advantage of a seemingly lost and defeated soul

Because I never minded that she was so clingy

She developed a habit in me

I always asked her to stay

But one day

She was taken away

From me when I least expected it

And I had to let her go…

She still lingers in me

But months from now

All traces of her

will be gone.

She will be gone

She will.

Have you ever thought about the spatiality of words?

Have you ever thought about the spatiality of words?
Like how many people have spoken the same lines from Shakespeare
And how many have said the same prayer
And words like fuck and shit
The way it loses and gains meaning
A fluctuation of the emotion and context attached to a combination of letters
A voice box release
A chant
A story that’s been carried on for centuries
Have you ever felt more connected to the past
When you realized that your struggle is no different
Than your ancestor’s
But maybe less of one.
And when you’re reading classics
The words never changed but the readers did
And what about the words rarely spoken
Or those overused
Does the word usage of another affect mine?
Certainly.

Language and words are far from transparent
And it’s almost foolish
The way we get caught up in
Communication
And then wonder why there’s so much
Confusion
Maybe even soldiers
Ponder the power of words
As they overlook it with their
Bullets.

I believe that there was peace once in this world
In the era of truth,
Lies and cheating were rare
Words had more power and purity
Because honest emotion is never wrong
There was only reality
There was.
Have you ever thought about the spatiality of words?