Shades of Grey Sent from My Grandmother

I sit
watching as the smoke
curls towards the ceiling.
Climbing
Tumbling over itself.
Escaping
from white paper
perched in her hand.
She flips it as she taps
off the ashes,
discarding what once was
into glossy glass. Encouraging
the burning to
grow.
I wonder, where does all
that grey go?
Into the ceiling?
Into thin air?
Into
my lungs? I
hold my breath as if
My life depends on it.
Standing up,
I walk away into the galleries
of my mind, where I
fantasize of midnight blues
and sun. Maybe all
those clouds wander into my mind?
Raining down thoughts
of anguish and disgust.
I shake my head, then
look in the mirror.
I peer into my
Gold speckled eyes
And ask:
“Is this really all
It does?”

1
Oak & Wine

Pt. 1

The river of blood

melts my heart with ease.
elegant like the touch of his hand to my
forehead
sitting
cheek to cheek. He doesn’t like the way
I look at her
He longs for
Me to live for him.
But I don’t, so
he sends the cascade of golden
blood to stop me
in my path.
to deliver me to the
basin of division. Opposites
collide and bring
in the new. “This is
just the way it is”
they say.
I believe them.
Only for a moment,
Not long before
the oak began to glow
and tell the truth.
Burning
away at
the river of blood,
Rich and luscious as my
heart begins
to heal.

2
Pt. 2

I stand at the altar

ready to receive the bread
and blood of the lord.

White pigment
bounces everywhere the light
kisses, reflecting back the liquid in
the eyes that glare back at me. I
stare into the golden red
to escape somewhere
far far away.

I see her looking back up at me.

Her pure
gaze cascades out of
the cupped coarse hands that struck her body
with hatred. She twists and turns
As the cup is lifted to his lips

it’s not
meant for him to consume.

3
Her opal eyes.

Corridors of eyes shift

back and forth,
frantically waving
their arms to catch my feet.
Earth tones
enclosed in grass skirts
cling to her skin.
I watch as she’s slowly swallowed
whole.
Nothing can stop
this natural cycle of life.
I pray that one day
I may live free with
my love at my side, before
I’m taken,
exploited for my riches.
I sometimes
doubt it’s reliability,
my cards
don’t know
what to say,
either. I
Just have to
have faith
And enjoy the ride.

4
The Lovers

The little alchemist loves to mix her elements.

Her love and light
poured into
The basin at her feet.
Worlds combined from the tip
Of a dropper.
She sings to
her beloved
As she writes her a letter:
To the queens astrologer
It starts.
To my one and only love.
Our existence may go against all
We’ve ever known.
All will be okay,
My love, for
All we need is
each other.
Us against the world.

The queens astrologer awaits for her calling,

a sheep awaiting it’s undeniable
death.
The king is
boiling with anger:
How could one woman love another?
When the lovers
collide
underneath the bridge of
the unapologetic self,
only then can the astrologer
save thyself.
So she rides
through daydreams
and runs
throughout nightmares
all the way to the alchemists tower.
She calls to the alchemist
I give you my life,
and for
everything it’s worth!
The alchemist calls back
and I, mine!

5
A game of chess?

The swiss opening becomes his first move.

The entire game is
mapped out before him.
My every move
calculated in his head.

I’m oblivious to the fact.

For I’ve only seen
This game in my dreams.

I move a bishop forward.

Hoping for the best.

The pieces
klink and
clank
into opposite colored squares.
We each take our own turn
creating our miniature battlefield.
Guiding his men forward
to protect his only king.
Slowing moving in for the kill.
His face is opaque. What he’s thinking
is unknown to me.
but I know that
in his warm
honey eyes
he’s already won the mind game.
His black nail polish
Catches light when he picks up his queen,
placing it down
one square ahead.

I painted them for him just the other day.

The first time he ever had them painted.
A moment that will stay with me forever.

Check

He sits back in his chair and looks at me.

He knows there’s no way out,

6
for he already foresaw.
A fortune that I
Ignored.

I quit.

No, we play till the very end.

But we already know what will happen!

It’s right here in front of us.

I know,
I’d just like to enjoy
this generous defeat.

7
Oh, my sweet marigold.

Before locker 13
is where she traced my back.
Before locker 13,
I had not the faintest idea.
It was just a normal occurrence,
you see. It was okay
for someone to cast about
my chest without
my blessing.

Down by locker 13
is where they touched my back.
Down by locker 13 was
where I realized
it wasn’t right.

After locker 13,

I had locker 33. The
cold maroon surface
begging me to not go. The
same color of the
fabrics I later wore in that
empty yet full room.

Right as his arms

enclosed around me
I wanted to cry.
My body screamed in
fear and anguish
but I chose not to listen.

I want this.
This is normal to feel this way.
I have to do this.

I’d yell back in protest.

But my body kept fighting.
Fighting me until
I finally collapsed from
the war inside me.

8
He loves me.
He wouldn’t ever do it on purpose.
It was an honest mistake.

A mistake that kept repeating itself.

Over
And over
And over.
Rolling into the big ball
that crashed and destroyed me.
Leaving only fragments
of what I once was.
I cried from
the suffering
blooming in my mind.
The feeling of his cold hands
remaining, linering.
His hungry gaze had fallen
upon me as if I were a piece of mere meat.
The words
he threw with ease
that I never managed to escape.

These wounds still live

within me today.
Everytime I think I’m safe,
reality crawls back in.
I’m sent spiraling into
Oblivion.

I wish
I could go back to before locker 13.
Undo everything that happened to younger me.
Hold that glowing child
in my arms
and tell them everything will be okay(?)
But would it ever be enough?
Would it be enough to
erase those markings
across the white board?

I didn’t want anyone to see

me in this state. Depicting me
as this

9
Tainted,
Imperfect,
Impure
thing.
Now a stripped down object, one's past pleasure.
I stand, sobbing, the shower pouring words onto me,
Scrubbing,
Scrubbing,
Scrubbing.

I want him off of me.

I want him out of me.
Away from me,
just far, far away!
At this point it doesn’t matter
what he is.
I just want him gone!

I can’t help but curl into a cocoon.

I can’t help but trace circles
Round,
And round,
The merry go round
that resides within my head. Replaying over
and over again the
spell he casted upon me.
I can’t help but think that

It’s all my fault!

I deserved this!

I should have known!

Because deep down

I really feel that it is my fault.
That I did deserve it.
That I should have known.
But alas,
I need rest.
So I pull up the covers
of those around me
and try to forget
All those Who Wronged Me.

10
Oh my sweet, sweet marigold.
May you rest your
pretty little head
in peace.
May the almighty
Mother grant you forgiveness,
and welcome you into her
open arms as her
new born child.
Skin soft like the petals
of a rose, and soul
healed through
The Cycle of Life.
For as long
as locker 13 lives,
so shall I,
and all that I will
come to be: a
beautiful butterfly.

And now I sing

my song a little more
freely. Confessing
my manifesto to
the world. I
give them a glimpse of
the flower I’m becoming.
Only
slightly, though,
as my rejuvenation
has just begun.
My story even I quite
don’t know.

Locker 13
Sits and collects dust.
My wings begin
to dry
from my once
drowning tears.

11
Ethnically sound

Clairemont.

Is it not black enough for you?

The blackness isn’t there
Because there’s none here.

I’m sorry I have no ties to my roots

They’ve all been cut by the shears of sheer luck.

Irony above all,

Even with the oreoness of my skin,
I haven’t even heard
Nigga
Or nigger
Yelled from across the street.
Never have I dealt with
The constant fear outside and inside my own home.
So why should I have a right to that heritage?

I have not lived the hopes

The dreams of my grandparents.
I don’t have
The walk or talk of my cousins.
I’ve not eaten from
The same bowl as
my brothers and sisters have.

I will never be black enough.

So why should I,
Clairemont,
Conform to your desires?

12
215

That first bite of chocolate

left
Bursts of
color
for me to implore.
Pine needles scattered
across the black marley floor.
pink and white marks
here and there.
They sit in a circle with
their matching
colors.
The rainbow in the wrong order.

Maybe I really shouldn’t be here.

I belong,
but also don’t.
I’m not allowed to join in on their rhythm.
I walk to the beat of my own drum.

Melodies that I’ve heard all my life

play from the little red speaker.

There she is.

all I see are her
silver eyes
and an ocean of black hair.

I must be perfect I think,

or else I will never belong.

Turns out that perfection

led me down the wrong road.
I don’t want to face the truth.
I want to fly away,
free from this cage.
If I can’t see them,
They can’t see me.

The angles our bodies make as we dance are bizarre but beautiful,
just like the daggers we throw with our glances.

13
Looking in the mirror at
the curves in my body,
it's different from everyone else.
I want to hide away and
become someone else.
Someone else who belongs.

14
Introspection

Everything that’s done

Is in light of this lamp.
It engulfs this world whole.
It’s frustrating
Existing
The constant tugging
Of grubby hands
reminding us
We’re sweet candy left for
secondary gratisfaction.

We have no freedom.
They’re everywhere.
In our bed
In our clothes
In my reflection.
Dictating every move.
Sexualized from a young age
We’re told to protect ourselves.
It’s made our fault
When we’re attacked.
Because of course, we’re always
Asking for it.

I truly can’t live without this approval.

It’s my every waking thought.
I thrive in this pool of poison.
Everytime I hide in the shadows I’m found.
Escaping seems impossible.
In a way, it is
impossible.
We’ll ever be far enough out of reach.
The light will always find us
And drag us back
Into it’s addicting embrace.

But here in the shadows

I find others
living freely.
Other non-hands like me.

15
Autumn

All that is grown around here is

Underground.
Too far down for any soul to see.
Umbrellas may stop the storm from penetrating.
Mostly likely not, though, as
No root seems to shine.

______

It’s a wonder, that thing called

Beauty.
[Is she really held in the eye of the beholder?]

What makes one beautiful?

You might
Have what it takes,
To solve this mystery.
Offer your life and love

Let's dig deeper and deeper.

See it?

16
Midnight’s around the corner

The wind rams it’s

shouler into my window
Sending sound waves
across its surface.
The silent bangs
shake me softly awake
Kiss my ears
Good morning!

17
Room 469

My words
walked the length of the room.
His form liquified
Behind the bolted door.
I feel nothing.
The darkness of the
Solar system
Boiling inside.
In time,
I feel everything.
The universe and
Her planets dance
Among the stars.

I just wanted to disappear

Into the clouds.
To run away from
Everything.
There’s nothing for me here,
There, or anywhere.
I’m just lost.
Every part of me drifting
Away into cosmic states.
The lines blurring
To where you can’t
Find the beginning nor the end
Of my existence.
Once strong walls
Have cracked,
revealing
A cowering queen
trying to wash
Away her pain.

The doctors come

In and out.
Back and forth.
Blood filled needles.
Pregnancy tests.

18
Fuck all you niggers
Scratched into the bathroom wall.
I’m just tired.
I want to rest.
Please let me rest!
I’m done with the world,
And that’s why I’m here in this
Cold
Wretched
Place.

I got carsick in the back of

The ambulance.
The whole time I wished
I was dancing in the
Afterlife.
What was the point?
No one to love,
Only hate shown in their reflections.
Anguish mixed
In those expressions.
Fingers pointing
In the wrong directions.
Electricity striking
Me down.

I don’t know who I am.

I hop out of the back,
And walk through the front doors.
Dead greens and eggish
Whites are all I see.
The occasional blob of
Flesh behind a counter or desk.
I don’t know who I am.

We walk into the elevator.

The 4th floor.

The children's unit.

19
I’ve made a mistake!
Haven’t I?
Something is wrong.
Very wrong.
The question is,
Who is it that is wrong?
Me? Or the ones who
Surround me.
The ones who take up the rest of
The space in the same room as I?

The wooden chair

Is hard under my bones.
Better than that bed nailed
To the floor.
Better than anything
That other fortress had
In store. I don’t want
To leave. I can’t go back
Into that unknown.
Back to the circus act
That is my life.
For the first time,
I’m believed.
I’m believed!
What a wonderful thing!
I can finally
Sit, and breathe. I’m
No longer fighting for
Acceptance.

I feel something
Lying in this green box.
But what?
I’m not sure.
The weight over my body
Rocks me to sleep.
Only for night terrors
To shake me awake.

20
The doctors
Gave me meds.
It’s the only thing that
Helps my body rest.

21
My indigo mountains

My indigo mountains,
Jade Valleys,
Summer Streams,
and Open Forests will never be enough.
Not even the little
Blades of Grass
I keep so green.

They
Have,
And never will,
Be enough.
For both him and me.

I sometimes feel sick

when looking at them.
All I can see:
That sick little tree.
Poison oozing
From it’s hollow roots.

22
Death’s great journey

My great grandmother had cancer.

My grandmother has cancer.
Will my mother have cancer?
And what about me?
I fear everyday that I come
One step closer to this inevitable grieving.

I can’t even cry for my grandmother.

No emotions arise except
Confusion.
Why am I not reacting?
I should be reacting!
Why won’t I cry?!

She’s homebound.
The only time I see her
Is when I come around.
I’m scared:
How come I can’t feel anything?

Am I glad?
Sad?
Distorted in my own sick way?

I’m numb.
That’s what it is.
This is just yet another fucked up thing popping into existence.
I made the call a few months ago:
The next thing I know is my grandmother is gonna have cancer!
I was joking.
It was just a joke.
But now it’s real and I don’t know what to do.

An apology won’t fix this.

Nothing will.
Death is a train in the distance,
It’s just a matter of when it arrives,
And whether or not you
Choose to hop on.

23
One wild and precious life

I want to carve
my heart and soul into this
Paper, leaving scars in its flesh.
I want it to remember my name, and
For everything it’s worth.
I cannot, and
Will not be forgotten by
Those who forage on.

I want to paint
my love and life into this
canvas, creating caverns and
Rivers throughout it’s mountains.
I want it to continue my legacy,
growing new ones in its warmth.
Those who look on,
Won’t forget who once
Made these strokes.

I want to speak all my feelings and

Secrets into my other’s ear.
For them,
And only them
To listen and speak.
Will this turn out the same?
Viewed in the scriptures as something
We all move on from?
Like a locomotive through the night,
We rally on.

24
It was all just a dream

Music plays in the

Background.
In the background,
I’m on the bed kicking off the covers.
They don’t come off?
Oh I see,
It’s not even covers that I’m kicking off,
It’s him.

25
Have you seen the weather?

45 degrees
It’s beautiful outside!
The sun is out,
Wind is dancing,
Life is once again blooming.
But so are those
Unwanted memories.
Just like the flowers,
They slowly unravel
To reveal
Their beauty.
Unfortunately, beauty
Isn’t always good.

26
Increments of love and death

I had a dream
Where everything took a trip to hell and back
My mind and soul taking it word for word.
I couldn’t save them
I was
Helpless.
Standing there speechless
I could’ve saved them.

Our red truck was

Buried in the sand
Tiny waves gently washing it’s bed.
Why can’t I find you?
You were here just a moment ago
Come back
I love you too much to let you go.

Betrayal was all I could feel

There they were,
In another's arms.
I plummeted all my anger
Into their heart,
But all they did was look at me
Coldly and say
I have another
You were never my lover.
I’ve moved on,
You won’t be remembered
By my name.

Thankfully,
It was all but a dream.
Although,
I still run into it
Here and there.
I wish it would just go away,
And not linger when I look to my lover.

27
Berceuse

I miss your face,

The simple bliss of it all.
The way we used to be
Was imperfect.
Poisonous yet sweet.
Your bittersweetness pricked
My finger
I don’t care anymore!
It’s not real love,
It's just my desperate attempt
To feel something other than alone.
All it did was make the
Hole grow

Can you hear her lullaby?

I’ve tried to listen
Many times before.
I don’t necessarily miss the shape of your cage,
Or any of you at all.
I miss the ignorance I was
Living in.
The world was right outside
My head, signs were telling me to
Get out!
And
Leave!
but of course I didn’t listen
I didn’t trust the outside
Like I trusted you.
The mountain from which
I fell was too steep for
Me to just scrape my knees.
More like a couple of broken bones
And a shattered heart.

28
Growing into womanhood

I’m a pretty girl!

Are you a pretty girl?

She’s a pretty girl,

I am a pretty girl!

But when will I not be a pretty girl?

Tomorrow,
This weekend?
Next week,
Or in a month?

I really didn't mean to be

In this body.
It’s just a coincidence that
I’m your
Pretty girl.

I don’t want to be anyones pretty girl.

I just want to be
Pretty monarch
My pretty monarch

29
When i’m alone

when i’m alone i see shadowy figures

walking just out of my vision.
they scare me everytime.
resembling the animals in my nightmares,
only in living daymares.

when i’m alone i don’t fear anyone

seeing whatever is behind the curtains.
only i see, and what i see is what i be.

30
A spell for two

Flavor seeps into the water

Ever so slowly
Two candles dance with one another
A single string keeping them together.
A flame lights.
I cut ties with you.

I should’ve known.

I’m waiting for the snapping of the rope.

For when the both of us fall.
Come to find out
I’m the only one who does.
You stand tall
Watching me
Dwindle like the fire
Between those
two white candles.

31
223

I feel safer in my mind

Away from the whip
Of a man.

It wasn’t necessarily violent,

You see,
It felt slimy and slippery,
Almost like a snake sliding
In between my legs
Gliding towards my heart
So it can wrap itself around
Her and squeeze out
What’s left inside me.

I used to feel safe in

The kingdom we call
My body.
Not anymore.
Like I just said,
I wake up,
But still feel the dreams dew
On my skin.
It’s fog lingering everywhere I go.
Sometimes revealing part
Of itself like
The snake’s tail disappearing
around the corner.

32