“Through poems, I speak the language of my soul and the emotions of my body onto paper.”

Beneath this skin beneath these bones beneath this blood I exist.

Grief visits us all differently but at the core – it rots us a little.

You shine bright but not everyone can handle the light don’t dim down from the rebound.

My path to healing is only unto me I let it take me where I need to go.

My lips thirst for yours but they are desert dry our hostile environment has weathered our love.

What gives in letting go is so much better than what stays with holding on.

Friendships made rejections laid follows stayed unfollows played saves surmount algorithm count Instagram disses and emoji kisses.

You sucked all my love and all of me through your hollow straw I wish I had known there was nothing on the other side.

We were – one. I was closer to you than anyone – ever. So tightly bound. You breathed for me and I lived in you.

As I unfolded my hand she took my palm her eyes narrowed on the heart line and I knew by the look in my eyes I would always be heartbroken.

I miss you but not as much as I regret leaving myself to be loved by you.

This is a poem about love its absence is merely an optical illusion.

The shelter is where I am when I am with myself.

I have emptied myself of a heavy burden today lifted it out of my body and placed it down its not the end but it’s a beginning.

My heart is my muse my blood is my ink my pain is my pen my words are my healing.

Why do I push up against the ones who will not have me like a wave pushing its way on the sand when my people are in the ocean and we naturally flow to protect each other.

I carry on knowing that when I deteriorate, my body will be a museum of all I can do and all that hindered me.

My body is a field site of muscle memory and weathered bones.

Lust is an enemy to the purse, a foe to the person, a canker to the mind, a corrosive to the conscience, a weakness of the wit, a besotter of the senses, and finally, a mortal bane to all the body.

My body is but the lees of my better being.

Bodies are slow of growth, but are rapid in their dissolution. [Lat., Corpora lente augescent, cito extinguuntur.]

I always wanted to live a man’s life in a woman’s body.

I know not what you believe of God, but I believe He gave yearnings and longings to be filled, and that He did not mean all our time should be devoted to feeding and clothing the body

I have dangerous bones in my body.