about silence.

About why I’ve been silent for all of these months.

Let’s talk about the absence of my love and presence of hatred. Because I’ve not only forgotten but chosen to forget what it was like to feel love. This absence of love has destructed my ability to feel love and feel empathy, compassion, sympathy. Though I had been feeling this non-feeling, I was completely aware of it. I never gave myself the time or space to truly feel all that has happened to me, even though I reflect on these events everyday. Even though I was and am completely aware of the fact that I still held on to hate.

And it was only one week ago where I had stood in my room and cried for ten minutes. That was when I felt it. In that short period of time, I felt the hatred dissolve and I felt one step closer to the love I used to hold for not myself but for those around me. There was still something missing, though. I knew what it was but it was entirely my fault as to why I was where I was… My fault as to why I am where I am – mentally and emotionally.

It’s been a lonely, dark road that I built for myself. I was tired. I needed to stray away to figure out what was going on inside of me. But in doing so, I became too comfortable with my solitude. I became too comfortable with my independence. I feel like I’ve built this road while destroying my path in the process. There was no intention behind this, behind the construction of this path off-road, away from the people I love.

I’m still here, but I haven’t looked back… and because of that I feel like I’ve lost so many people that I love. I feel truly alone and I have nobody to blame but myself for this.

My loneliness is a cause of my actions and I so desperately try to look back, to reach back, but I feel as if it’s too late.

Because it is.

Though I feel like I have emotionally grown from this past year alone, I think that I often blur the lines between numbness and being emotionally aware of myself and how I feel – in other words, I stop myself from feeling.

I preach the book of self love and loving yourself wherever I go, however, I never speak these words to myself. I feel like I have conditioned myself to (as my friend puts it) react differently. As opposed to feeling things so deeply and allowing myself to do so, I don’t. Instead, I fill up my schedule so that I will continue to keep my mind off of what my actual problem is. This has become my way of “coping”. I know it’s counterproductive. I know it continues to push me further away from the people I love… I know this… So why does it not register to me that I need love again? That I need to allow myself to love the rough parts without forcing them to be smooth so soon? Is it because I have conditioned myself for so long?

I’m sitting at my desk in my office as I type all of these words and I wonder when it will hit me. When my old heart will make its appearance. But do I really want to allow that side of me again? I’ve learned to love and I’ve learned to let it in but I’ve also learned to be choosy. To be picky. To not exert my love to things that don’t water me…

Maybe I have grown and realized that I cannot be fully logical without compassion, without love.

I sit and I wait and it hits me but I let it fall.

I sit and I wait and it hits me but I let it fall.

There are moments where I do catch the signs but don’t apply them to me. I just store them and I now carry a collection of inspiration but it hasn’t spoken to me yet. Perhaps the words don’t fully mean something to me yet.

How much more can someone wait until they fall into complete isolation?

How much more can someone do until they realize their actions do not fulfill their void feelings?

I miss having a best friend.

















mother nature

Moving in synchronicity with my mothers past
I feel at one with the way the world revolves

The speed at which water paces
forcing its presence into new homes
into places it does not belong

But I am here

As existent as the winds during a storm
there is no telling where I will land but

I am here

As vicious as a raging fire
once born a meek flame
I make it known that I am here
yet you manage to walk over me
and I am still here
absorbing your very steps
all while guiding you to your next destination
where I will be




It’s been three months since my last blog post. I have chosen not to write as I am not in the same place as I was before. I needed the time to myself to get things off my chest – I needed to clear my mind, and most importantly, I needed to clear my heart.

I did most of that all while deconstructing myself (once again) to get to the root of my bittersweet feelings. The wait was intentional because I wanted my heart to be back where my pen was. However, no matter the number of times I tried to get back to it, the feeling was no longer there, or the words didn’t flow as easily as they used to. Excuse or not, I took one of the longest hiatuses from my pen game which is why I’m not able to produce as well as I used to. I’ve turned to other means to release any feelings of discomfort and negativity which could be another reason as to why I haven’t been back at the pen. My pen seems to be missing my heart but I will keep [my attempts at] writing until they meet again.

In getting to know myself and feel myself grow, I have prioritized doing everything else instead of allowing myself to feel through whatever I am going through. I am not sure if I have grown into this or if this is just another one of my coping mechanisms but I feel like I have become wiser with my emotions (if that makes sense) and more realistic with how I feel as an emotional being.

Control is something that I have lost before my hiatus and I took the time to train myself into gaining more control over my emotions and mental space. I took the time to really hone my feelings so that I  won’t lose my shit again, but even more so that I won’t lose myself again.

Getting back into the other hobbies I like doing has also helped to restore some kind of balance in my life that I have been missing for a while. It was almost as if it was a reminder that there is not one formula to reach self love. Though I spend my time delving into other side projects, I’ve also been dedicating a lot of my time to my job. (Who doesn’t need money in this economy?)

I’ve become more focused on my larger goals and dreams that I pushed all else aside so that I can work within a tunnel vision. As great as that sounds, having tunnel vision made me miss the importance of things outside of the view, such as my health, my friends, family, etc.

Not even gonna lie, my mind is all over the place because I have yet to start this paper, but I made a promise to myself to start writing again because I’ve lost touch with something that I’m actually good at.

And after spending time reading through my old poems and watching old performances, I can already feel the disappointment from the writer side of me.



Do you see how much power she holds in just the spaces?
She leaves them open
for you

Do you see how much force weighs in the just bones of her fingers?
How much strength she holds back because she knows what she is truly capable of?


I haven’t been myself lately and it’s evident. I was merely living in between the lines and not outside of the box I love to shield myself in.

But I have found my peace. Or so, I thought.

She no longer lives here. Serenity only filled the oxygen I was breathing for one fucking day. Now I feel sick and full of pollution.

I didn’t know how quickly my heart could be filled with such burning anger and hatred… It’s scary how it terrorized the love I struggled to but successfully build.

She doesn’t live here anymore.

And I’m scared.

My space has never been filled with such blistering negativity. If it had in the past, I made sure to rid of it before it encapsulates my entire being but I’m afraid it is too late.

My chest now rests in the pit of my stomach and I no longer have an appetite for anything.

I was told by many that my glow and happiness have inspired them to start/strengthen/continue their journey of self-discovery and self-love. I was told that my glow was so bright and beautiful…

To my friends reading this, to my friends that still care about me, to my friends that still love me despite this [temporary] storm, to those who looked up to me, to those who came to me for love and light and wisdom, to those who came to me for solace, to those that saw me as a “Queen”, to my cousins, to my sister…

I am sorry for disappointing you.

I’m never one to drag others down with me, so I ask that you respect my space. I won’t be here but I’ll still be around.

I know I’m going to look back at this post a few/several months from now and cringe at how I allowed this to happen to myself [again]. But I also know that I’m going to look back and be proud of how much I have grown from this bludgeoning moment and how much more I have loved myself.

But for now, I’ll keep fighting this losing battle.

I miss her. If anyone sees her, tell her that home is waiting for her return.




stuck in between the lines
I cannot be read
merely skimmed over as these letters no longer make sense
words formulated out of the simple act of writing
these sentences feel like sentences as my grip tightens around my pen
I write apology after apology but my ink never dries
it only tells white lies
and I’m back where I started
stuck in between the lines


phoenix (performance edit)

I have burned myself to the core for the sole purpose of my renewal
and resurrected from the burdens of my past mistakes and decisions

From these ashes I rise brand new
shedding any remnant of a past me you once knew
She no longer lives here
but her memories serve as lessons for as long as these wings pick up the winds beneath them

Her journey is as far as the edges of the horizon and as deep as her soul allows
though the depths of this distance may frighten her
she knows she will never be lost or drown

After creating homes in places I have never known
I feel familiarity within the ways the winds blow
its routes reassuring the power of my wings
I let my history weigh in
slowly but delicately
my legs have been waiting for this moment

And I take off once more

Reclaiming a newfound strength that is untouchable
feeding the stomach of her new being
she is nourished with knowledge, love, and light

Soaring to new heights, I am no longer afraid to fall
knowing I will rise once again


enough (performance edit)

Curves full of body and soul,
are your hands whole enough to hold her?

Are they strong enough to not let her slip through the cracks of your fingers?
Do you see how much she carries between them?
How much power she holds in just the spaces?

She leaves them open
for you

But are your hands ready?
Are you willing to have knuckles crack at the expense of freedom,
willing to get your fingernails dirty,
willing to risk breaking bones
Are you willing?

Are you enough?

Are your hands delicate enough to cradle her heart
letting it pulse in your palms
transferring energy through your fingertips

Can you feel her pain?

Can you feel the number of times it has broken before you
its tears still in the process of healing
can you feel them too?
its beat emulating the syllables of lies she has heard before you
following a basic algorithm

Are you the one to solve this calculation?

Can you process her through a multitude of equations
or is she just another addition to your problem solving
and if she is,
are you smart enough to subtract her before she further divides you from your formule of manhood?

Are you?

Are you smart enough to decode her locks?

Maybe you can unlock her walls
revealing the bareness of something real

But will she let you?

Unknowing of the weight of it all
are you ready to catch her when she falls?

Are your hands bold enough to hold her back when she wants to chase danger?

What if she wanted to chase you?

What if she wanted to keep chasing you into tomorrow,
making each tomorrow better
so it feels like you’re forever living

Do you still want to hold her then?

What if forever is not enough for her
what if she wanted yesterday

So how about now?

Will you still be there to hold her tomorrow?

If she brings a tsunami will you offer your hand
or do you watch her drown in her own faults

But what if she brings the sun?
Do you hide yourself from chances at burning
or embrace her radiance

Can you handle it?

Endless possibilities with predictable reason
her energy fed with passion unlike another

She will always be more,
never empty
a continuous refill of might

A woman with such power holds the nerve
has the audacity to make a man question if he is
to hold

This power held not with her words
nor actions
but with a simple glare
that gleam in her eyes that asks,

Are you scared yet?
Are you enough?
Are you love?

But are you man enough
to let her know,

You are
You are not