annualemergingpoetsslam2019
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I itched at my head
Until my scalp bled
Trying to reach into my skull
And once I did
I found a wooden door
I knocked three times
i’m too old to deal with childish people who hurt people out of ignorance.
but i’m too young to drink until the pain is numbed.
i seem to have encountered a dilemma.
when the air comes in and out of my lungs.
this is how i know i am alive,
how i know that i am still human,
and how i know my mistakes are just that.
when my head goes on rampage and i cant think.
Sexuality does not lie in sensuality
It lies in intelligence, competence, being deliberate
As childhood fluidity gives way to womanly solidarity
