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My lungs are on empty,
my heart beats alone.
Head beneath the black water,
sinking like a stone.

I pull out pink hair and false teeth.
A couple drinks accept me:
I lose the rings around your eyes,
God's the playlist of my cries.

My ankles kiss and I'm poetic again,
my head bangs the wall and I'm depressed again.
Not breaking stereotypes,
black and blue taught me how to write.

Black and blue hold me down while I fight,
the shades shut my eyes from the light.
Lips pressed against mine, nice and tight,
Hands pull me open without discussion.

I never asked you to teach me how.
My name is not a broken vow,
not a mouthful of mumbled vowels.
My name is not I'm better now.

Fuck those who stand and take a bow.
Fuck those who sing white, holier than thou.

The darkness only let me down
The doors, they only let me pound.
The cold, she never left the ground.
The devil never wore a crown.

Neverland wouldn't let herself be found,
Peter Pan didn't let me hang around.
I talked too grown up for a kid,
and fairy dust never gave me reasons to live.

God please a few reasons give,
I'm depressed as hell and I'm only a kid.
Tylenol whispers I shouldn't have lived.
The light hurts my eyes and I wish I had hid.

God please a few reasons give,
I'm selling my soul and I'm only a kid.

the trouble with weekday lovers

is that their reasons fade as the week does.

so please, turn out the light behind you, turn the key mind you, i will be waiting for the start of your car to take my breath away. to make my beliefs sway.

i'm lying naked in your sheets listening to you grind your teeth, and we all have nightmares until the grief subsides.

promise me coffee and five minutes. promise me bruises and ten minutes. don't pay me in compliments, pay me in time.

because we all have nightmares until our grief subsides.

white.

i painted my face white as god
and my privilege and cynicism couldn't be blacked out.
my skin will never be political
and they will never read understanding from my hands.

"skin color" band aids have always matched my skin color. my baby dolls were made in the image of a god who taught "white is right." everywhere i look, bleach rubs out all the culture. assembly lines pale anything that will stand still long enough, but dr. seuss' star on machine didn't save the sneetches.

uncle sam breathes out white lies, white knuckles turning down his white collar. didn't anybody ever tell him snow doesn't have any flavor? cold numbs your tongue and dulls your senses.

it's the human race, but your god said their skin is cursed. your god said they couldn't hold the priesthood. your god said black is wack and white is tight. it's the human race and we're all sore losers.

i will never have to reassure my children that they are more than their skin. i have never been called a nigger and had to swallow it in. i will never be asked to voice the eyes of my race, i will never be insulted because of stereotypical white ways. media supplies strawberry fields of fame to my sisters and brothers, who claim colorblindness, standing on the others. and congress presents a pretty picture, liberty's a ghost but there's no one to miss her.

i'm exhaling silver smoke in your face because my veins have always been laced with asterisks and immunity. i've sucked birthright from my mother's tits and drank privilege from my father's word choice. there are mirrors i can't face and steps i can't retrace. i tell myself, "at least you peeled open your eyelids, pressed the blue to the dirt." but there are mirrors i can't face and steps i can't retrace.

• i wrote a poem sophomore year about the irrelevance of racism and i quoted seventeen credible sources on the internet.
• i argued against affirmative action in several of my classes junior year, claiming "reverse racism."
• when we were watching a football game together, my grandfather slammed his fist into the desk and shouted, "i cannot take another commercial with a black man!"
• my parents told me i could not date any blacks because our features would not mix well if we chose to have children.
• i have told racist jokes in order to get cheap laughs.  

and sometimes, four espresso shots can't wake them up and four poems can't shake them up and four advil can't make them turn around.

my skin may not be political
my eyes do not shine with experience
but my hands are shaking
and my teeth are showing

white may not be a color
but i am marrying the revolution
i will fall with ferguson's finest
i will paint my chest with uncle sam's blood
i will not be content until the human race is not won by any race

my footprints may be faint,
but my god will find them

sticky sweet

we are all waiting to get our feet wet
and we are all cutting the hate out of our heels
and we are are all walking around dead parking lots
holding pepper spray more tightly than we ever did our lover
as if he can save us from our friends' brothers.

we are all drinking our coffee too sweet
because we take our truths without sugar
and we are all trying to scare ourselves in the movie theater
because we don't want to be scared
when we walk back through the dead parking lots to reality.

Who's scared of obscurity? Who's scared of lifelines and deadlines? Who reads obituaries? Did you kiss your grandma's morgue red lips? We're all just holding our breath. We're all just counting down the days until we fall between the cracks.

we are all smiling until our cheeks hurt,
sickly sweet syrup dripping down our chins,
sticky melting due to heat,
exaggerated clown smile on repeat.

Help me pull the bullets out of my fingertips because every time they press against my thighs, hate is heard louder than any gunshot. I thought the big bang was just an expression, but there's a universe expanding under my skin and all this pressure is pushing the blood to the surface.

I'm still wearing my rich-girl body, white-girl body, privileged-girl body. Can't forget to put on my pretty-girl body. I've still got my strawberry shortcake smile with extra sugar, still got my universe building deep in my bones. One day it will break me into arms and legs, and the blood will pool at my feet. The lip gloss will sit with the gore and I will stitch my teeth in to my gums and ears back to my head, but the dust will settle.

My nightly prayer's an incantation: God, please let me hate myself a little bit less. Please let me hate myself a little bit less.