“If you wish to read the story of my people look no further than my body.”

I want to be something to pray for but I don’t know how to be.

And what am I but the smallest of footnotes in the universe’s everlasting memoir?

This country collects too many tongues, until our only language is silence.

I don’t know how to let you out without destroying us both.

Seek refuge in the space between my bones.

Somewhere inside my throat lives your ache.

I like to trace the ghosts of your fingers on the back of my hand. They read- I don’t know how to hold without you.

I pocket grief and it beckons me like a lover.

My silhouette is an ocean, your lips a sailor.

There is a calmness in not knowing.

Every beauty mark, a country to roam. Every stretch mark, a river to cross.

I loved you in quiet because to hide is to pretend that it is okay.

Allow me to introduce myself, A warning and a welcoming all at once.

We are so much more than skin can hold.

When I look in the mirror, I don’t see a poem.

I have lived too many lives to be only one thing, and instead of attempting to mesh them into a form of a human being, I have decided to love every jagged edge of mine.

Hate is always a clash between our spirit and someone else’s body.

A corpse is what’s left after waking too often.

Meditation is a vital way to purify and quiet the mind, thus rejuvenating the body.

Dance is a song of the body. Either of joy or pain.

The Bible is to your soul what bread is to your body. You need it daily. One good meal does not suffice for a lifetime.

Let your liquid sunshine pour all over my body.

You touched a piece of my soul with your mind. A piece I didn’t know my body carried, the one that makes me feel alive the most.

I will take this heart, these lungs, these hands and I will rebuild.