“Even the pages I ink crave your name.”

Like a ladder in the sky, You put me on cloud nine.

Treat your body like a home where your soul feels safe.

People leave when they don’t find the courage to admit they are wrong.

Whatever you are holding back, it will never hold you with the same energy.

A window in Paris opens to a world of imagination.

Don’t just expect people to respect you and sit back. Stand as you demand it.

If you choose to make everyone happy, you choose not to make yourself happy.

If hurting me doesn’t hurt you, don’t ever come to me with a reason to fix us.

Even if it takes forever for you to bloom, make sure you are the most humble person in the room.

The goodbyes seem so untouchable yet causing impossible hopeless scars.

Slowly, you turned away. Slowly, I collapsed.

Change is scary when you too know you have been blind enough.

Anxiety lives free in my head, while happiness says away it has fled.

Don’t push away your emotions too hard, remember they can push back if held for too long.

The magic isn’t about together always it’s about love anyways.

Live up to what seems the best, not what people tell you is the best.

To be a poet is a condition, not a profession.

Love, the poet said, is woman’s whole existence.

God would seem to indicate to us and not allow us to doubt that these beautiful poems are not human, or the work of man, but divine and the work of God; and that the poets are only the interpreters of the Gods.

To have great poets, there must be great audiences.

I am a Black, Lesbian, Feminist, Warrior, Poet, Mother – stronger for all my identities, and I am indivisible.

Each man carries within him the soul of a poet who died young.

Love isn’t soft, like the poets say. Love has teeth which bite and the wounds never close.

If you would be a reader, read; if a writer, write.