colored

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[rootedflows]

[tomboybklyn]

[18-15n-77-30w]

[rootedflows]

shade

if a slight so real

why can’t i let the vein throb

cry out in pain

remind you of the time you were here

laying in the bed your grandmother made

and there were hands all over you

how the low ceiling planned your escape

how it still holds you

[rootedflows]

self esteem

rings in my ear: give up and free life.

you should be hanging low by the talk dark men fanning you in a place where women rule. it ain’t an echo, your voice has earned a family. say it louder for the bitches in the back because you can’t leave your Self behind. and the next time he looks you in the eye, tell him the thing that will make him leave.

prayers of the righteous are the only ones that get heard so say it louder for the bitches in the back.

[rootedflows]

blind woman, side street 11:04pm color made caveman drop to his knees, color made a plotting friend color made black, white too for rainbows in the absence of color, i drew a message on stone, called it black washed poetry the kind color made to hang dry like Negro necks and hair— both blocking your view i wanted a hand to rest near mine so i prayed and held myself tight if color could make me, couldn't color make you. i remind God to answer me create a color, make it good make it breathe the only thing that can live life. tell the rest, their time will come amen but don't you dare give color bad you-already-forgot color don't. wasn't the right word i see the way color was set up

[soggydenim]

[rootedflows]

gladstone daddy was a boy with two stones in his hands daddy was a drip like a persistent leaky faucet can make you fall into mother's long poetry: twisted ghetto alchemy her technical virginity, call it arranged soul mates like a foremother's need for romance like a foremother's ass imprinting on a verandah chair For-ever-for-giving, forever there. needy men want their women to/too rise up, give birth to pregnant poems in warrior stance, deep Manichaeanistic breath. half-lunged, very alive exhale you chose your woman to choose your spell the whispers sutured to your skin you wear her, even when you leave especially when you leave

[shenice-alisha]

🍯

I am unapologetically myself. some will drink me in. others will choke and leave.

[rootedflows]

grandma

depressed hands rest heavy on you when you are wide awake at 5 am, replaying a manifested childhood dream. headstrong, sunken eyes, and the graveyard you refuse to open your love to. the broom can soothe a cold in your chest and save you from death. (it was the congestion from the dust that lived in you.) breathe. hot. air. onto your fingertips and find your age. wish for your prayers to never be the curses they are. watch over him while you sleep to ‘low his open eye to speak the truth you are looking for. turn it into excuse and free your breasts to the rhythms of your kingdom. who’s watching now?

[rootedflows]

untitled

he injects me with his Demons dashes i let them take over me fill my chest with cold chrome cool cheetah print, enlarged zippers if a tree falls in a forest and no one hears it, does it make a sound? it just wasn’t the No he forgot to hear, it was the inside of my head that was screaming. gripping me in my Hell come — cheaply alive. i red-red-wined for three days straight, cried, really on an unchanged pad in a bathroom stall. silent curses, self-suicide to be so quiet a dead throat is a Demons resting place. it ain’t a beast til you get loud

[fairycosmos]

look. i don’t think my stretch marks are beautiful. i don’t think they’re tiger stripes or natural tattooos. i don’t think my acne is beautiful. i don’t think the bags under my eyes are beautiful. i just think they’re human. and i don’t think i have to be beautiful all of the time in order to be accepted and loved and sucessful. i don’t think every small detail of my outer appearence needs to be translated into prettiness.

[onlinecounsellingcollege]

Know that you can start late, look different, be uncertain and still succeed.

Misty Copeland (via psych-facts)

[rootedflows]

fried grey matter bloated, penis emerging from face capital murder in the first 100 degrees dust becomes dust at dusk in dirt, knees are united on the edge of this fried grey thing teething smiles before a flash all of Ivory hands appearing with a false Stigmata hands lubed with metal — a Trump day, grab her by the pussy

[rootedflows]

5am Sunday

sick mouths congregate where you can hear em your ears are pointing down the hall where voices remind you who you are you ain’t crazy it’s me, it’s you cupping growth while i small up myself to open sores, foamy breath speaking omens in tongues

old man with the ones offer it up to me, like silver plates and poles resting green dreams meant to die a Pastor’s new Benz — his cocaine addiction

each shot is a loud gospel we scream and we holler we are begging for change throw a one in, want ten back you ain’t crazy i know you hear it too

stand on your feet sit down bow your head pray men speak women speak clap kill your self clap thou shall not

[rootedflows]

Quite interesting read.

[demigodxtonio]