Closed Casket

I smelled

the Roses

before

collected

bouquets

as I

go

if I

died

today

Touche…,

No

money

can convey

I am a

limited

edition

classy female beast,

grew up

on the

east side

of my b-town streets,

No

honey

sweeter

to sting

your heart

with joy

or

buzzfeed

ya

right

outta

own

front door

than

thee,

five-foot-three

shorty

holding

University degrees

living

day by day

being

the best mom

I can possibly

be

praying

one

day my

son

can live

a

better life

than

me,

avoiding

momma’s struggles,

working

quadruple doubles

or reloading

a glock from

troubles…,

One bullet,

No

name

it aims

and claims

away precious

life

in loving memories

her

name

don’t weep

or

air-mouth-sing

to my

casket…,

I was here

before

smelling

the Roses

collecting

my

bouquets

from around

the ways

Touche…,

if you

never ever

gotta

know

me

on any

of my

Living

days.

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Final Performance

Heavy hearts

flooded in

memories of

your life

dancing

back

in rewinds

playing

tunes

to

flutes

lively

were

you

feel up

on

happiness

popping

in

joy jives

things that

you love

being loved

by Us all

Now,

confined by

a white sheeted

bed

hooked up

to monitors

struggling to

breathe

as pain

shock waves

inside your veins

making it

harder

for you

to maintain

or entertain

energy

to live

yet,

we sing

wishes

for a

peaceful

transition

inside

and out

hitting the

perfect pitches

to make

you

always laugh

keeping

what we

know

of your

love and beautiful

songs

always

close

to our hearts

as we always

had

before

of you

everyday

we live…

we will

miss you…

crying

ugly blues

because

we wish

it wasn’t

YOU.

Life’mares

Cold sweats, he shooked

in and out of death,

silently whispering confession

of dark nightmares

hated

for years later

till death,

pointed a gun

in tears

to his left

lobe

erasing all fears

he let go

to leave

out of

misery…,

To

hunting me

again

he hasn’t left…

breathing the same whispers

at night,

tugging my pillow from

left to right,

hugging sheets

of repeated

whispers

hunted

sleepless

to praying

“My God Please…, take

this

PTSD away from

Me!”

Crossroads

Alone

sitting

under

insecurities

clouds

rain

strikes

lightning

all around

my

way

refused

to moved

sitting

back

anyway

into

my wrestling

mind

reflecting

life

as loving eyes

become

lost

hard times

stay

tough

and

street crimes

accumulates

enough

blood lost

of

humanity

to

witness

more insanity

in families

reloading the

shots

aimed

and ready

to pull

the trigger

in

cruel

intentions

to blast the

wicked

into

retaliation

ways of

Street Justice

for Us…,

Clearly,

mirroring

the same horrific

horror

in

tears flowing

out

drenching

hidden

rupture

hearts

choking on

reality

for

years

or not

to

hid away

in the dark

or not…,

Haven’t

moved from

lightning

why not…,

sitting

back to

Alone

anyway

or gone

anyday.

Hey, I Miss You

I miss you,

I really do.

I may not

talk to you

everyday, or

be grace by

your presence

in my zone

conversely

acknowledging

the recoil

resistance to

reach out to you

anymore

but…

my heart and spirit

with compassion

and admiration

for you

will eternally be

a prominent

part of my life

So…

missing

You,

will never change.

Pouring Out Disclosures

Born from

sin

punished

to not

fit-in

anywhere

but

in

seclusion

at least

it was

an illusion

as a little girl…

A mother

hatred

to her

“ragdoll”

daughter

she used

to call me…

Dragged

anytime

out of bed

by

my hair

and

whopped

decent

was her

reasoning…

Bruises

given by both

insignificant

folks

classified

as my

parents on

a birth

certificate

stamp

“a magnificent baby girl”

stuck into

a

home world

to be

uptight,

frightened

and

mislead

with a

brown wooden

cross

hanging over

my bed…

Mistake

to misspoke

once to a

school

counselor

brushing

with danger

telling my

black marks

on my arm

wasn’t from

paint

but

out of anger…

Trained to

look down

and

no eye contact

was the

rules

if anybody

had questions

those

folks

were quick

to fool…

Dealt to

deal with

a slip tongue

consequence

alone

in a room

that

was

a cell

of confusion

isolated

for

their

amusement

growing up…

Making

privacy

my adult

choice.

Listening to the New Generation

Ebony Brown

from

B-town

at

thirteen

off the bus

girls grabbed

pushed

and

talked slick

to

punches

flying

Left fist

to right eye,

right fist

to the rib,

in self-defense

she came

running

to

my crib.

Ebony Brown

was weird

preferred to be

alone,

mom

never home,

never

knew her dad,

reading

around school

was really

all

she

had.

To my door

crying

from

frustrations

open arms

to listening

ears

she stay

the night

for

guidance

talking,

and

knowledge

dropping,

her off

to school

in the morning

Afterschool,

an extra mile

walked

to share

a smile

and our day

making sure

Ebony Brown

got home

safe and okay

until,

she moved

away

graduating at the

Top

of her class

She wrote: Because of You.