Pride and... never mind

Y'all.
People!
Please, before you go out of your way to be offended by things that have nothing to do with you, check yourself and ask yourself "Self? Why you mad, hun?"

If I say "I'm proud to be skinny" with or without explaining that I'm proud to be skinny because people think I need to eat a burger or that a dress would fit me better if I gained a few extra pounds or that I look like a chicken (all of these things have been said to me)... If I say I'm proud to be skinny because people go out of their way to make me feel ashamed for something I have no control over (I eat like a pig and manage to still look like a chicken), does this mean that I think people who are overweight are ugly? No. My statement has nothing to do with those people, my statement has more to do with me reassuring myself that I am okay, I am enough, I am beautiful despite what other people may think of me and other skinny people. In the same vein, except if expressly stated, just because something is pro-black does not mean it is anti-white. Peace and love.

Vindictive

I feel
And I feel
And I feel

Dear heart
What did I ever do to you?

Enough

There is poetry in the way some people look at you

...like you are the only star in the sky

And you don't need to shine any brighter to be enough

Because you are enough

Strange as you are

Exactly as you are

It's the nerve to dive into feelings that don't make sense

Make room for reservations that fill you with faith

Become a living paradox but balance the equation

Laughter, tears

Simplicity, complexity

Beat poetry, slam poetry

Not-so-good poetry

Music

Art

Love

Love for the things that make your ears flutter

And your eyes water

Love for the things that make your heart want to give till it hurts

And then give some more

Love for the things that make you smile

With tea-stained teeth and olive-filled cheeks

Love for the things that are only perfect in their imperfections

Beautiful in their ugliness

Long reaching in their short comings 

Some people smell like love

Without even trying

These people

Treasure them

These people

They are enough

Strange as they are

Exactly as they are

Nothing's got to give

Inna Lillahi Wa Inna Ilaihi Raji'un - To God we belong and surely, to Him we shall return.
This is my favorite Arabic phrase. It is typically said when speaking about someone who is deceased however, I love it most when it is said in respect to living a (spiritually) fulfilled life because... well... YOLO!
My point, in the rephrased words of Anais Nin, is that 'I want to be a mermaid, with no fear of depths and a great fear of shallow living'.

*Middle-Eastern Mermaid by Sully

Black Bird 3

When they call, tell them you are fine
When they ask, tell them you are fine
What do they know?
All these people you have housed under your rib cage
Forced into a nation that will never say their names right
Set the standard for love, family and friendships around
So that no one will ever measure up
These people who know your deepest flaws and greatest fears
What do they know about being fluent in solitude?
About being lost, somewhere between despair and East Texas?
About pulling your ribs out, one at a time, to make room for new people?

You are fine
You may feel alone, but you are never really alone
You housed them in your heart, under your rib cage, remember?
You learned to accept that education will probably never make up for ignorance about Islam and "Africa"
This acceptance created room for more people, remember?
You love God and God loves you, and most times, that is all that matters, remember?
You are fine
If you don't like it here, move
But before you do, check your heart
You cannot set fire to the fields and expect nothing to burn*
You might be the one that needs changing, not your location
You will be fine
So when they call, tell them you are fine




*N.L. Shompole

Diaspora

Sometimes I want to return home

But then

Being at home makes me feel like a long lost cousin

Who has over stayed her welcome

And that makes me want to return home

Which begs the question

Where is home?

Second-hand Sweethearts

I have collected hearts over the years

Some have stayed
Some have left
The rest I have kept captive

My second-hand sweethearts

These are the ones that bleed me dry

I give them everything
My love, my heart, my soul
My life, my body, my gifts

I give till there's nothing left to give
Then I give some more

My second-hand sweethearts

I give till it kills me
Because it kills me
Because sometimes dying, is living

My second-hand sweethearts

You were never mine to begin with
Fairly-used is never as good as new
Alaha human iyol