You there

You there

You there;
Fighting the awkward stares –
I feel you.
ignoring the sugar bag
kilograms –
I feel you.
Hairy armpits
hairy legs
hair all over –
I feel you,
I caress you.
with the afros
the monolids
the curves
the apples, the pears –
I feel you.
The pubic hair
peeking from
the elastic –
I feel you.

I feel you
scared of dying
of not being loves
of not having the chance to love
of being hurt
of hurting.
Hurting yourself
hurting yourself
killing yourself
twice over –
I feel you.

The acne
the scars
the blemish
the faultless faults
the birthmark
the lumps
the fringe you hide behing
the fringe you solace in –
I feel you,

I am there
in the fringe existence
I feel the pain
I love you
I feel the love
I cry the tears
I choke
on the words
not _____
I feel your hand tighten
your clenching hug
desperate to fight
the loneliness
the melancholy
the impotency.
I feel you.
I am you.
You are me.

There; We stare into the abyss of eyes.


When they see it, do they feel it?

I didn’t watch it

I never do

I can feel the blood

I can feel the heart

The beat

The fall off



Cataclysmic shock

Through the system

The bang bang bang bang bang bang bang


Pixelated stranger on your laptop screen

Also a stranger to me

Yet by some chance in biology


I am consumed by empathy

By some choice in my biology.






What of the pain?

History hasn’t changed.

They used to gather to watch them lynches.

Now they can watch it from behind a screen.


Do you enjoy talking about it?

It is just some provocative fun?

A debate for now and then and then and now

And abandoned like that time you were really into Hip Hop?


I wake up and it burdens my heart.

I go to sleep and it darkens my dreams.


Somewhere a stranger was shot,

People watched it on their screens.

I could not. It would hurt too much.

Another, another, another. Child, man, woman.


It feels like we’ve been killed off

killing ourselves off

and life is unbearably overwhelmingly too much for us.

When we get a grip.

It’s lost.


They don’t see the strain in our shoulders

The tears in our eyes

The stabs in the heart

As we explain

Again again again again.


When they see it

Do they feel it?


When they hear you?

Do they see you?

When you die

Do they mourn you?

You know why I

You know why I

“You know why I’m attracted to you?
It’s the way you walk, unassumingly, I can see the
curve of the small of your back
your shoulders relaxing
your mind wandering
you inhale-exhale that cigarette
but your brain is in the clouds.
I love your long legs and boyish shoulders
small teardrop breasts
that strange bump on your lower left rib
and that bemused smile as you wonder
why are you looking at me”

Really, I reply, I used to want to be invisible.
I would weave through the crowds with precision.
I was a needle embroidering a transparent thread.
More than anything I wanted to disappear.
I have swallowed the fruits of my mother.
And her mothers.
I have decided that when I see my reflection.
I will not recoil.
I will smile.
At that beautiful girl. Even when I forget.

“You forget, I can see that, you forget what you do to me.
to people; you leave an imprint the shape of your hand on their hearts
like a tattoo, and they wear it, proud of you,
yet your mind is elsewhere, you rarely notice yourself,
the fact that that that that
that thread you weave is glowing
with your heart’s warmth
your love overeverflowing”

I am a flawed creature. I have gained some confidence.
But at my best I am a narcissist.
I make up for it.
By being loving.
That’s what a narcissist does best.
I can love.
I will love.

“What do you love about me?”


I love the way you walk, with your head in the clouds and your mouth exhaling smoke
A fire brews in your belly.