Love makes us foolishly optimistic. -Wale Folarin

Some Shit I Believe

Some Shit I Believe
no evil here. just truth.


Brownsuga* Skin

Written at 5am...what's sleep anyways ?

Please don't forget that I'm your rib.
Cause I've been here for so long that
you tend to disregard me
and strike me from
your thoughts and memories.
But every time you breathe,
you feel me,
and with every step that follows,
I lure u in,
like a sin
to be committed and forgiven.
My lips drawn speechless,
harborin secrets
and barring unadorned kisses.
Skin whisperin of the Garden of Eden,
holdin scents of fruits and flower petals.
And this is how you find me,
clothed by nothing but the Sun.
I'm without shame
and you can see my every scar
and mark tickled into my body's frame,
you beg to know my body's name.
The wind screams 'Beauty'
and without question,
you agree.
Laid out in front of you
is me.
A once blank canvas painted with
the colors of beach sunsets and spring rains.
Autumn hikes across my veins,
and my smile embodies full moons.
Cheeks rosy with aroused heat and anticipation
as your fingertips draw near me.
Amazement crawls its way between us,
draggin lust on its backside.
You lick love into my insides,
sweet honey bee nectar hidden deep within my thighs.
You're buzzin 'round,
tracin my every curve with wide eyes of disbelief,
tongue draggin with hopes of mischief.
This is brownsuga* skin...
breasts perked high at attention,
back arched just slight so the view is just right.
Womanhood drippin like a question mark,
soaked with my own curiosities.
Body parts swellin with pleasure,
every nerve on edge,
temptations crawling over my goosebumbs.
This is ecstasy.
Satisfaction buried deep within my pigment.
Strength tangled in my complexion.
There's no soul like the one trapped in brownsuga* skin.
Baby, my name is Black** Woman. 

*To be replaced with an adjective that describes your complexion. Our shades are so full of flavor and sensuality but when I wrote it, I felt like I had wrote it for anybody. All shades are beautiful and are open to acceptance.
**When I originally wrote it, I had just wrote Woman. But I'm Basically the word itself is interchangeable with any other ethnicity or can just be left out and said as Woman. Again, I wrote it for anybody and all women are beautiful in their own way just by the mere fact that we're women. Please don't forget that you are his rib. We're the strength of the world and whatnot, works of art. =)

The Discovery of a Void (And Its Eventual Acceptance)

Written earlier this week...

I am on an endless search for substance.
Something tangible that I can wrap myself around.
And every time I think I’ve found it,
my fingers part their separate ways
and I watch as the little bits of concrete certainty
slide from my grasp.
I always put my hope in the wrong things.
I rip my faith apart at its seams
and release all the little pieces into
winds that float on dark horizons
and I pray that God will find them in them morning
and return along with them
the emotions that I’ve lost.
Emotions that have been consumed by
a complete inability to translate them
into words that hold any value.
It’s almost like I’m screaming
but you can’t hear me.
Either I’m not loud enough or
you’ve turned deaf ears and blind eyes to me,
anything to bury me six feet below your realities.
I’ve lost all my friends to either
distance or distrust.
I’ve tried to keep people from turning into shadows.
I always fail.
The blades of their tongues
always cut the arch of my back
leaving me to rebuild on top of old scars every time.
And they disappear while I’m tending to my wounds.
But everyone always leaves behind their pictures,
photographs of me and them smiling into lenses that know nothing of our fate.
I wonder is this how everything ends,
in two dimensions
that fail to mention
that once our lucks and dooms were
intertwined and connected
so much that when I inhaled
your lungs dispersed my oxygen back out into our atmosphere.
I always trust that everyone will be there.
But all these expectations soon find their way to empty promises.
Empty promises that carve out voids beneath my skin
and wait to be discovered.
I struggle.
But I make companions of my empty spaces.
I crave their solitude.
These detections of holes within my soul are
a confirmation of my fears.
Proof that even with them here,
I still exist.


Never have I ever written something and not known's almost like another part of me wrote this while I stood on the sidelines and watched. It doesn't feel like me...but it feels like something kinda familiar...I think. Or maybe I'm just

Written about a month ago...

My body is a temple.

And yours knows the password to unlock all my secrets.
A slight part of my lips tries to tell you stories of my organs
but instead I end up inhaling your being.
And your soul crawls through my airway and makes itself comfortable next to mine.

I admire your posture so intensely that
your regal strength whips itself around my spine and rips the insecure slouch from my body.
I don't know if I'm standing with you or for you
but my body has never been so perpendicular to heaven and it feels sweet.

Your soul grips me,
its new found mate,
internally and my eyes jump to yours for reassurance of the at hand occurrence.

Your eyelashes are reminiscent to acoustic guitar strings
and every time you blink,
it’s like deep, sultry music to my ears.

And my fingertips begin to ache to feel you.

I know the second we meet skin to skin,
our complexions will devour each other
and blend themselves into a shade too beautiful for description.
And the goose bumps...
the goose bumps will be like braille to the blind
so that even they can know of the lyrics seeping from our pores.

My lungs are filled to capacity with the dancing of our souls.

They begin to expand inside of me
and my sternum starts to crack with excitement
until the skins rips itself away from my frame and leaves me open.



Brown sugar pours from my veins and your tongue catches every drop.
You tell me I taste angry.
But you know I'll linger with an aftertaste you'll always remember,
even on the days u try to force yourself to forget.

My heart creeps near our toes,
struggles to stay whole without its shelter.
You can see every crack and scratch
and we can both hear a faint beat that sounds like its groaning your name.
My whole face flushes the color of hot summer sunsets with embarrassment.

And you laugh.
Of all things to do, you laugh.

And I feel my eyes swell up with the Great Lakes.
I know so much emotion is about to fall out
of this bare cavity that used to house the heart
now perched at your ankles begging for your attention.

But your lips send their apologies
and they place themselves against my own and dance themselves into a frenzy.
I cave into your chest for security and protection…
but mostly for the comfort of your anatomy. 

Following Me and Shit