black girl diaries (5): peeling

cicadas chirp around me
buzzing and bursting at the seams for something to change
something has to give
but it won’t be me
and it won’t be you

I can feel my skin peeling off
gross, disgusting, unnatural,
yet praised
the summer sun burns me and
boils me down to my
bare essentials.

I become nothing but what you want me to become.

but when autumn comes near
I feel the weather cools
and I become myself again.
the cicadas die off,
and only their shells remain.

I am more than that. I will always be.

black girl diaries (4): emergency

i’m not the one to sound alarms
when there’s not an emergency,
when nothing ’round me would cause harm
or initiate urgency.

a crash, a boom, a slam, a bang,
the explosion of someone’s voice
can leave me grasping for somebody
to give me another choice.

it’s all at once, it’s always been,
and i know it always will be,
but every time i think of this
i wonder how this world is free

since i’m not made to handle things
of multitude, for i am just
a person with a complex mind
of particles that come from dust.

and who really isn’t just that?
is anybody else around
to witness nature’s caveat,
the deaf’ning, overwhelming sound?

because i know i’m not alone,
but it truly does seem like so
when i go in search of my own
and all i get is told to go.

so what to do in such a state?
a person who is nothing but
as moved and living as the late
can only pull their eyes closed shut.

unless, of course, there was a hand
to hold and have and know and pass
through all the hurt and turmoil that
come with this life, this knowing path

of crashes, booms and slams and bangs,
of letting that heaviness hang,
of knowing even on your own
you’ll never truly alone.

emergency! emergency!
a social peril, a dire need

to be together, joined at once,
to fight the good fight attonce

black girl diaries (3): marriage

“to have and to hold,”
but what is left in my arms if not empty platitudes
if i forget to take action with my love.

i’m made of the dignity i was born with,
of the earth beneath me, the sky above me,
the insects and mammals and fish around me,
of the people around me.

i am tied to them forever.

with all of my dreams of leaving myself behind,
as long as there are others i will always be here.

marriage is a promise to another
and the public
that someone’s story will be a part of yours,
has been a part of yours,
for better or for worse.

i am married to my past, my present, my future,
to my former footsteps and the dirt that surrounds them.
i am married to my loved ones, my peers,
and those who will never love me back.
i am part of something greater, something better,
something bigger than me or anyone that i could think of.

marriage, really, is everywhere and in everything that you can think of.
just like love, and just like hope.
i will have this peace. i will hold my loved ones.
now and forever.

Capturing Campus: Four Years

Four Years

tears shed with bright panic

at the sight of a new home

alone in a mask

how can one make friends 

six feet apart

I applied for a job

writing poems to regret (not now, but later)

I learned that I hadn’t learned Spanish (or English)

I would start again

in a cold sweat at 1:00 am

as my roommate dry heaved liquid fun 

into a trashcan

I met a person

who asked to sleep with me

I didn’t.

I made art,

spent holidays at home, where things felt wrong

but never went on as long as I hoped

had my future read

embrace who you are, who you love, they said

I did neither at 19 

in Chicago, I was low below the river 

back at work, then to school

again, I met a roommate

Halloween was football and fishnets

nightlife and laughter in Grand Rapids 

I met more writers, more friends 

turned 20 

watched my favorite person graduate

in the fresh June heat

I felt happy for the first time in a long time

I applied for a job

wrote a book I’ll never publish

fed goats and peeled through corn stalks 

ran a club, felt grown

hit another low in the ER (I took my notes to study)

before turning 21 

drank and said goodbye

hit lower than the ground

I thought you couldn’t fall from the floor

stood up, took off to my last year

cried for different reasons

looked long and hard in the mirror 

wondering where the time went

whether it was worth it

I’d like to say it was, so I will

It was worth it.


All of this to say, I am enormously lucky to have lived and grown here. Although my undergraduate years were hard (harder than I anticipated), I have gained the confidence, companionship, and courage to keep reaching. I want to extend my thanks to the arts, ink. program director for providing me with the opportunity to express myself on this website. Thank you to everyone who has read my writing. Your support means more than you know. With that, I hope to see you around. Go Blue! 

Capturing Campus: A Dandelion Achievement 

A Dandelion Achievement 

I remind you what the dandelions told me:

don’t be happy, they said

be content instead 

why smile when flatline lips looks so good on you

when other hearts shudder and thud

yours is still

but I still hear you begging

better make me, make me better, medicate me

make it last

time will scar me 

and the sun only shines half a day

it’s best to try

try to be happy

to smile through it all

to relish in hunger 

to moan as you loath

to indulge in the terror

the bleeding and belting

I remind you 

to water them

but tell you they are weeds

Capturing Campus: 21st

21st

Clouds stretched thin

like dead end

roads or frayed hair

sharpen the pencil to the point.

of breaking 

of knowing

the answers

| watch |

the world weeps to celebrate

cross the street

meet a friend

and another

for lunch and a book

that reminds you of someone

watch the sky die

let the bold moon

speak to you

drink loud music and vodka  

shake the floor with your tongue 

sway and smile 

desperate and dizzy

on the night you agreed to 

nod and say 

it’s time to leave

and wake to the rising sun