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The Help


My job is to wait for a calling.
 Help those who have no one at all and then fall back when I’ve helped enough. Falling back hurts though, but what else am I supposed to do when my mouth is tired of talking.
 I get tired of people and become robotic. Unable to function because there are daggers in my chest and if I move too fast my heart will bleed. I silence myself for protection. It’s called the silent treatment for a reason. it’s the best remedy for a poet with a sharp mouth piece. 

 People will show you when they want you to shut up; so don’t speak. Silence Can be filled with inner turmoil or peace. Lately it’s been a war between both entities. Not  being able to speak with the ones you love is appalling. Bodies depart but the essence of love remains.

 I have no control over where the lord places me, and obedience is a charm of mines, so I adapt to my placement perfectly. I was reliable, patient, loving and kind. I sacrificed for my sisters. I watched faulty circumstances crumble free-spirited women. I cared for the children. I bent my back for those who were broken from bending.

  A listening ear and a swaying sword to seize the tongue of whispering demons. I watched their circumstances change as their strength was regained. I caught subtle signs that my service was no  longer needed. The only thing that pisses me off about the departure is the shots thrown at me, aiming  Straight for my love piece. 

 I love with no limitations, and put myself in a box, cutting off the life line to my own aspirations.Some people don’t seek  the integrity of independence and  become  complacent in their ignorance. They don’t realize that it was never in my description to mend wounded hearts or repair broken souls; that job is done by God alone. 
My job description was the “help’’ not the healer.

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The Help

Home

He felt like home. Like grandpa’s hugs and granny’s kisses. Like a  school bus ride home, and  evening sunsets. Like afternoon Lunch with your Best-friends. He felt like home. Arms with an instant ease of peace, chocolate lips And a grin so sweet. He felt like ice cream on a summers day. He felt like a sunshine ray , and a Shooting stars runaway. He felt like home He felt like  Twilight, New Moon, and Breaking Dawn. He was was as high as the sky  and as bright as Nebula. He felt like why have I never felt this way before? He felt like a shower after a long day at work, like back-rubs And bath bomb soap . He felt like India’s Aries “Brown skin…  I can’t tell where mines is and where yours begins”. He felt like hopes redeeming  and pains end. He felt like home. Of course felt is past tense. But it’s still memorizing to dream of who we used to be. The trauma that can Happen when direct and in-direct meet. Like I’m saying things I don’t mean Because you act a certai
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For my Nephews and Ellie

  To my Sterling Boys and Brielle   I know a lot of time has gone by since you have seen me, just know In my heart you will always be. It’s so sad to write to you as if y’all aren’t here but adult drama fills the air.  I imagine you all have grown so big and strong, your childhood laugh warms my cold days and our memories together keeps me strong. I know I’m just your aunt but y’all will forever me my Bestfriend’s, the closest thing to my own children and Gods beautiful art.  I wonder what new things you have learned, what adventures you’ve taken? How many books have you read? Have you watched a good movie? How did you do in school virtually and what little pains you hold in your young hearts💜💜💜 I remember you all being so very smart, and I know your mothers are taking very good care of you. Please be patient with them because this time in life is hard for us all.  I shed tears writing this poem but it’s been weighing heavy on my mind. The only thought that I had was why did I have
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Wolf

Which wolf will you feed? The savage beast or the angelic being… At the age of 11 I had already grown to be pessimistic about life. I sat in the counselor’s office and remember telling her, “I always feel like I’m waiting for the second shoe to drop”. Life can be so good but there isn’t enough sugar to stop the metallic taste from reaching your taste buds.  At the age of 15 I was distraught my mind and mouth were unionized to fight even if there wasn’t a war. I’m about to be 22 years old and still feel like the little girl who couldn’t trust the universe. I can say it’s even worse now because I feed myself optimism to drown out the part of me that needed to feel secure. Like big shit getting dismissed because we are all just humans trying to figure out which way to go. I sometimes wonder to myself... which wolf is more me? The wolf who despises, burns bridges and criticizes. The one who as soon as they feel threatened starts throwing grenades and doesn’t care if the whole wor
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