you are too full of life and love to be half loved by someone. you deserve a love that feels satiating for your spirit. you deserve a love that makes you feel seen. you deserve a love that makes you feel heard. you deserve a love that listens and a love that is patient. you deserve a love that is kind and a love that feels warm. you deserve a love that makes your heart explode and a love that sends shivers down your spine. you deserve a love that takes the time to study you, that takes the time to understand your mind. you deserve a love that is patient and compassionate. you deserve a love that grows old. you deserve a love that doesn’t judge but instead accepts you wholeheartedly; flaws and all. you deserve a love that sends tingles through your whole body and leaves butterflies swarming in your stomach. you deserve a love that gives you 80 on the days that you can only give 20. you deserve a love that sends you into overdrive at the slightest thought of their touch. you deserve a love that lasts. you see how you simply read this, you deserve a love that is simple and extraordinary all in one. you deserve to be felt, you deserve to be loved. you deserve love.
a spoken word piece of mine, "its been over a year and im starting to feel alive again," about grief, growth, and finding bits of yourself that youd thought youd lost.
lessons i learned growing up:
i was eight when
my mom and my sister and i were sitting at a bus stop
i think, when some guy came up to say
"those're some pretty girls you got, miss, you've got to be careful
All the boys'll be chasing them one day"
i'm sure smiled and acted polite, because that's what we were taught
always please-and-thank-you-and-excuse-me-my-fault
perfect training for the rest of my life
a perfect daughter or a perfect wife
an object for boys to chase and use
a mouse on the run with a cat on the loose.
but don't worry—
it's just because they like you.
i was thirteen when
the boys sitting behind me in the bleachers
touched my shirt and bra and then walked away.
but they probably just liked me, i should take it as a compliment
and really, i should put it in perspective
it;s not exactly like i was raped, i should just get over it
my case is clean cut and simple and 'lucky,' at a glance.
maybe if i dressed in
long-shirts-and-sweaters-and-baggy-pants
and
sat-with-friends-and-stayed-quiet-and-always-sit-at-the-back-of-the-room
they'd leave me alone.
(idliketogohomeidliketogohomeidliketogohomeNOW)
and someone told me
boys will be boys, they'll learn their lesson.
i was fifteen when
walking to the coffee shop across from my dance studio,
a man on the street called out to me
"lookin good, gorgeous!"i kept walking, my sweatpants and hoodie
like twenty foot tall beacons showing me off.
and i was too scared to say anything back
boys will be-- men will be men,
better just to ignore it, after all, it happens to everyone.
i am sixteen and
the supreme court is deciding whether women, whether girls
can abort, and six men and three women decide whether all women
are more than an eight-by-five piece of flesh and tissue.
so the next day my mom picked up her car keys and
told my sister and me to make some signs before
driving us up an hour to washington dc to see how to finally,
finally,
use our voices.
and they're joined by a thousand others around us-
when human rights are under attack, what do we do?
stand up, fight back.
to the eight year old girl who was just a pretty toy for some unknown boy
(who'll never exist)
you'll grow up stronger, you'll learn to resist.
when human rights are under attack, what do we do?
Stand Up, Fight Back.
to the thirteen year old who's still haunted by
the skin that she thought she'd flaunted
but the truth is it's the boy whos at fault
always has been, always was.
When Human rights are under Attack, what do we do?
STAND UP FIGHT BACK!
to the sixteen year old standing right here, right now, there is not any power i lack.
and the hurt and the anger that always erodes
my confidence after being beaten by wave after wave
has been built back again and i swear to GOD it won't cave
so Listen here, listen now
cus this isn't about writing a poem for class
hell, i'm not even in it—
it's about being a part of a change that lasts.
BRAND NEW!
As part of The Poetry Project, I am excited to announce a collaboration with the fantastically talented Aline Xavier! She has performed two pieces from the project and has brought the words to life! Check out her performance of 'I see us dancing' here and her second performance 'I will not run from you' is out on 4th Feb!
Thank you for the support Aline, you are a superstar!
Check out Aline:
Instagram : aline.axo
YouTube : aline.xavier
It's funny how my father, sitting beside his second wife
Will tell me that liking girls is wrong
And it's funny
It's funny how my stepmom, after hearing that Spongebob came out as gay for Pride Month will say that all children's media should be asexual
But I don't hear her say that when we watch a Disney movie
And it's funny
It's funny how my stepmother will say that as Christians we are called to love gay people… but we can't accept them?
As if those two things can co-exist?
And it's funny
It's funny how when my stepbrother tells the family he has a girlfriend we're ecstatic for him, and I have to bite my tongue and hold back the tears knowing that if I were to share that same news, I would be met with screaming and hate and anger from the people who are supposed to love me the most.