The Other Side

After 911 she never sat the same

Always two steps ready to leave the door or hide underneath a table

Her arms loose like worms and legs numb like wings

Today she heard a bomb threat,

Her fingers shake, her eyes are puffy, her heart races

Terrified her husband won’t make it home

A loud noise confirmed her terror, but it was closer than she imagined

She wanted to die with her identity

but it was too late and she could not get her hijabs

The heat flew into her door and onto her skin

The insides suddenly became the outsides, and her face unrecognizable

As she took her last breath her body bursted

She would never see her husband again

The soldier felt a piece of her heart in his

Like glass, cutting through the honor he wanted when he signed up

He mumbles, “I am a hero at home, a terrorist here, but ultimately a murderer in camouflage.”

****Inspired by a video I saw on Facebook. Classroom Debate on Muslims****


Well, I Never

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Well, I Never….”

Well I never sat long enough to hear his stories

Of how his problems have been saturated with cocaine

I mean yeah he told me he was going to do it…

Well, I never sat long enough to actually believe him

Or understand that his life was the worse its been

I didn’t understand what it was to live in a house with a mother who would not listen

And siblings who laughed at him like a joke

Sometimes I forgot that others didn’t see the intelligence I saw in him

Other times it was hard to remember that I was just like everyone else

Although he tried to tell me about it

Well, I never really listened

I kind of,

just left

I Tried

I tried to smell you

But you pinched my nose and told me not to bother

I tried to hear you

But all I heard were the feelings I made up in my head

I tried to look at you

But your image was turned black by the sun behind you

I tried to touch you

But  all I felt was air in between my fingers in the place you were supposed to be

I tried to love you…

But I didn’t understand you

Call home

I don’t want you to ever wonder
What you did wrong to make him cheat
What you could have done better to make him stay
Why you don’t get as many likes as other girls
Why guys don’t come up to talk to you
Why your closet is not full with as much cute clothes as you feel you deserve
Why everyone seems to smile more than you do
Why you cannot seem to go an hour without thinking of something sad

I want you to remember
It is not your fault he cheated
Maybe he wasn’t ready, or you guys were not meant for each other
You could not make him stay, people come and go but the real ones always stay
You didn’t get as many likes as other girls because you rather show your soul than your body
Guys don’t come up to you because you intimidate them and they fear rejection
You have all the clothes that you need, how you look should never amount to who you are
Just because people smile does not mean that they aren’t hurting too, smile back because you never know whose smiling at you
And I promise you will have better days,
Just remember to say five things that make you happy right after you admit what makes you sad

I didn’t have someone tell me these things

I kind of just learned on my own

But when these moments happen, it’s okay

We are human

Just know that mommy’s arms is a place you can call home

Generally Speaking

Forget the flowers and the music

I want you to serenade me with your thoughts

About how you feel when people say racism does not exist

As if you were not a Black male who is 33% less likely to get a job because of your name

As if you were not stopped by cops 85% more times than someone who is White

As if the 1 to 100 ratio now 1 to 10 for crack and cocaine wasn’t used to give you more time in prison despite the fact that it was almost the same exact drug

As if you don’t have people holding their bags, constantly looking back, or moving away because of the color of your skin

As if you making it to college is not considered a dream come true because no one thought it would be possible anyway

In college, you find your White peers using you as an example as to why racism does not exist

Strategically ignorant to all other forms of racism you have experience in the discussions of that same classroom

The issue with racism now is that there are no longer signs of “No blacks allowed”

Instead it is bad service and everyone asking each other why you are even there

It is being followed around in a store because your skin color must obviously mean that you cannot afford it

It is being questioned about where you are going by the police as they search you to find something to arrest you for

I remember walking out the train station in Canarsie and hearing a black male ask, “Why are you arresting me” as the officer replied “We will find out when I search up your name.”

It is hearing that not all police are like this as if that’s supposed to justify the actions of the ones who are

It is having more Blacks in jail now then there ever was in slavery

One Black woman is doing life in Jail for trying to shoot at her husband after countlessly calling the cops for his abusive behavior

But one White woman could kill her daughter and not see a day in prison

See racism never ended, it just evolved

And racism does not only happen to Blacks, it happens to everyone who is not white

It is as simple as watching a show and rarely seeing any one who looks like you

It is turning on any channel and not seeing your culture

It is typing in hairstyles and not seeing one person with the same hair texture as you

It is writing your name, Jamerly, and seeing a squiggly line under it, but writing Emily and it being perfectly fine

As if my name was invalid or incorrectly inserted to America

“Justice for all” My name is not even accepted onto my essay as I try to complete an assignment of why I am grateful to be an American

Racism, is the hardest thing to see if you have not experienced it

Because it is the little things that many squeeze by

White people try to justify racism by giving examples of Non- White successes

But I wonder how many those successes could say that they never experienced racism

So please stop using them as an example as to why I should not believe that racism exist

Will I Be Okay?

Its difficult and scary to write

Because I expose myself to myself

And I am always shivering in terror on what thoughts may come out on paper

Because they are a fantasy in mind until my fingertips makes them a reality

I start to learn about sadness that I never knew was present at the moment

It is usually, mostly always, about fears of the future

Like who will eventually not love me anymore, who will I lose, who wont I see again

Will I be happy? Am I doing the right things to be successful?

Then it turns into youtube and seeing people my age who have made it

People who are making business decisions

People who are doing what they love and are great at it

And I am a bystander, unknown how to make it in this world

I know success is different for everyone

But I want to know what success means to me

It seems to have dyed down during my first year of college

I need to sink my toes into the water and stop letting them get suffocated by the sand

I need to trust in myself, my future, and be patient

But patience is hard every time I find myself comparing who I am to who I want to be

And realizing I haven’t even started the race yet

I guess I just want to know,

Will I be okay ?

Tattoo My Body

I want to tattoo my body with everything but ink

I want parts of my body to resemble an experience

One that my body will never forget even when my mind is lost

I want to be 80 and look at a scar in the middle of my leg right under my knee and think of the time that my leg got caught in the front wheel of a bike

Or just invent a story close enough so that I can assure myself even after life has twisted and turned my point of view

I can still imagine

I want to tattoo my body with everything but ink

I want parts of my body to scream hurt and other parts to whisper happiness

So that when I can no longer see, I am able to hear what I have been through

Later, I will notice the voice to be my own

As we recognize how lucky we are to be alive

I want to tattoo my body with truth

I want parts of my body to flinch with the presence of someones hand

So that they know it’s sacred and its a present they can never give back

I want to tattoo my body with words I wish to never forget

Like happiness is a choice, beauty is within, and wisdom is everywhere

I want to acknowledge the small experiences that make the world go round

Like the way all humans experience hurt but we often feel alone because we condemn talking about it

I want to tattoo my body with names of all those who made me

I want to remember my mother who gives up her last bill to pleasure me

My dad who works 24/7 to support everyone but himself

My sister who reminds me how big her heart is every time she looks at her daughter

My brother who always ask me if I am okay even when he is not

My cousins who always show me a good time and are a hundred percent supportive

My teachers for believing in me and making me believe in myself

And my friends for reminding me that there are bigger problems aside from our first world issues like not knowing which outfit looks best

I want to tattoo my body with my life

So I may never forget

I want to use ink so that everyone could remember, I am human too

And when I am in my casket, since I know no one will grant me the pleasure of burning my soul and throwing it into the ocean so I can at last be free

I want the little creatures to eat every scar, scream, whisper, laughter, name, hurt, and wisdom

So that when they too die

They can remember

We once existed together

I remember you beautiful, incredibly thoughtful

Timeless, in the sense that we forget why man made time or that clocks even exist when we are together

But after I started showing my feelings things became a little different

You asked me if I like flowers and I said no

They are beautiful things I get attach to and then they slowly die and I am only left with a memory

Well, today you are my flower and you are slowly dying

Every day a petal slowly carresses the ground as you miss commitments you gave yourself

And the rain starts to pour on us

I am hoping our rain will not drown you, but instead relive you

So that we can be beautiful again

But my insecurities have become the thorns to your rose

And I feel the thoughts of other women, greater opportunities, someone you could spend more time with, pushing you away

And time becomes relevant again, I won’t see you in three months

So I sit here wondering is it your fault or mine?

Paint Me

I see the picture
There on the wall
Painted in black and white
With a girl who stands by her family
No matter what

Let me give you a clean white paper

Why don’t you pick up the paintbrush
Use blue for my arms
Because of my freedom to write
Use purple for my head
For the peace I want to find
Use red for my feet
For all the struggle I have been through
Filled with scars to resemble strength
And paint my hair
For the bright things I aspire

As for my heart and my vagina
Paint it black
Not for darkness or damage
but for the rare opportunities that others get to see it

Paint me alone
Because I am my own person
Paint me colorful
I am everything in one
Paint who I am, the real won
I am not just black and white

The Glass

I’ve been shattered
More than glass
A glass that has roughly crashed
on the ground
With no way to be put back together
Broken so hard that you
you take the pieces and throw them away
But some of them are still left behind
out in the open
for others to get hurt

I am sorry
that I leave certain pieces out in the open
But its not that easy to clean up
And sometimes the hurt pieces are not visible
They camoflouge into their surroundings
It is only when it’s touched that its evident that it is there

And for that I am a glass
One shattered and invisible
clear and painful