A Poem About Gender

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She her he him they them 

She her he him they them 

What does it mean, who is you and who is me?

 

What is in a mystique 

What is it about that SWAG 

Essence that makes one stop and remember they are here to LIVE

What is in a look? 

Snatched from a corner 

A glimpse into oneness 

A walk so luscious 

Such mobility in the hips of a person

With none from society 

So juxtapose 

Some may turn up a nose 

Giving a lack

Of understanding 

You speak of freedom too naively 

You see it yet know nothing of that sweet violent sacrifice

To have that carefree 

That light 

Unburdened by expectations that never

Belonged to us in the first place 

Not knowing we vacation in your bottom 

Holding hands inside a dank moist orifice 

That is our SELF

Was it worth it? 

Not knowing your sacrifice for normalcy 

Is all the lowest bottom you can be. 

 

She her he him they them 

She her he him they them 

What does it mean? 

Who are you and who is me? 

 

That kiss of fresh air from the flip of wig

The match of that rhythm of a stride so distinct syncing with the heartbeat of heals on pavement 

The spell cast from the snapping of acrylic click clacking

That spiced cayenne betwixt explosions 

Of tongues poppin' on roofs of mouths

Acknowledgement, Seen

Blessed be

That sirly bulge 

Sunken in chest 

A demure tuck 

Not of this world too regal to comprehend 

Too rigid imposing 

Too harsh yet small to exist to be in

Thus we must bend 

FUCK. 

IT.

 

She her he him they them 

She her he him they them 

What does it mean? 

Who are you and who is me? 

 

It is 

It is looking in the mirror everyday

Naw, 

Not to love 

But to KNOW what you see 

Despite the external prison that society might make you be 

Check those contours, that highlight, dark parts, light parts , grays, neutrals between 

Knowing thyself

That is what it be 

 

She her he him they them me

She her he him they them we

It’s just what it is 

I am just me. 

 

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IMA Star

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Don’t get it twisted baby 

I am a star 

I just need to collapse in on myself 

Before my light can bless this dark sky 

 

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Love Poem #1111

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I wish to feel your lips against mine 

Amongst the stars 

To feel what mere words can never express through the sigh that seeps through your teeth 

For this place 

This realm 

We are in is not real 

But the mere feelings 

Cradled against you as we drift into sleep 

Is the realest thing I have ever felt

Your eyes gently squeeze my heart 

A ripe lemon 

Letting all the bitter aroma pass 

I wish to marinate our souls together 

Making the most decadent food 

Let the universe feast on our love 

 

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The Curse of Jezebel and The Ascension 

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Why is it when i am naked you still can’t see me ? 

I have shaved myself raw 

Peeled off my skin to let my insides show 

I present to you these lovely bones 

Yet you run 

You hide 

Turned away in disgust 

I felt purified 

Bathed in blood sweat and tears 

Gagged myself silent 

Donned a mask glittered with pained smiles 

A painted face frozen between crimson pursed lips 

A possession for you to hold 

Yet you toss me aside 

Unbothered 

I make myself soft 

I grow my nails so that you can hear me scratching at your window 

But you do not hear 

I make myself meek 

Hide from my own image 

Deny my own self 

And give it to you 

Kneeling prostrated 

Before your heals 

Head shaven 

Body exposed 

Yet you recoil 

As if you have seen the devil 

Casting me down 

Pinned so tightly under your thumbs 

I thought I could find warmth there 

But it is oh so cold 

Why is it when I am naked you still can’t see me? 

WHY 

CANT

YOU

SEE

ME 

I am so much more than the monochromatic projections you place on this body 

This body in all of its glory is mine 

Does that terrify you? 

Unbridled, raw, powerful 

When I am naked I will not own your falsehood 

For too long I have been imprisoned by your delusion 

Crushed by your limitations 

On my knees servicing the lies you tell yourself to aid in your fickle ego 

Now it is my turn 

Kneel before me 

Taste my realness 

Is it intoxicating? 

Does your cup runneth over? 

Are you drowning? 

Can you breathe? 

Can you see me now ?

 

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Stories from a Dying City 

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A sex library

Now condemned building

A grave to past 

moments of abundance choked by time 

I wanted to visit the place 

we fell in love 

To lay it to rest 

walking to 

A stranger says I have something of hers

my jacket

She's mistaken

But convinced 

What I have is hers

She don't want to hear what's mine is mine 

She follows me down the block 

Our block

Chasing a thing that was taken 

Expecting a return 

People will see what they want to see

Grasping for whatever keeps them warm at night

Tightening my fist around keys 

I'm ready to fight for what's mine 

Peering behind

I don't give her what she wants 

But she still wants it nonetheless

Perhaps that's why we still feel attached 

To the things we shouldn't 

We think things belong

to us

Though they never were given in the first place 

for how can one claim what was never given 

or taken?