"I can't wait to taste your lips against my cheek.... I'm so hungry for you"

Brave New Voices 2010 - "Favorite Color"

I was at a lost for words when i watched this piece. It all seemed some relatable one way or another. Bought me to tears.

"I"m so sick and tired of being your intangible day dream. Let's make it real already"

Treasure Found

The day I found myself was the day.

It was the day I cut off all my hair, watching

In shock as long, thick, strands hit the floor,

 And walked out the door.

I became the slayer of the dragon manufacturing,

And manipulating the media,

Flicking its tail and flashing its fangs,

Rearing its ugly head,

Breathing the fires of an "ideal" beauty,

Constantly pouring out

Pages of the magazines, showing

What seemed to be

A conformity, of how I, everyone should be, 

Oh but there is so much more to me

Laughing at the demise of my past, at last

Finally free.

It was the day I stopped letting my feelings

Control my thoughts and right a wrong thing instead

Of writing to a wrong thing

(That is, siding to a wrong thing),

Bringing together the

Kings and queens, addressing the love that sings and

Swings in the breezes of the October sun,

And we've only just begun.

Enlisting the help of the moon and

The stars as they dance across

The night sky emphasizing our unity.

It was the day I stopped asking why, and

Break away from this hate community.

It was the day I looked into the mirror a**-naked

And loved myself for who I was, instead of hating it

For what I had to become.

For what I had to become.

In case you didn't hear me, I said

For what I had to become.

That is, realizing that there is more to life

Than my pants size, the width of my thighs,

The color of my eyes,

The lies that people tell

To make you want to

Despise what’s on the outside.

Criticize.

The day I found out what it meant to have pride.

While tuning out the ignorant disguised

As my friends, transcending vibes of the vile,

To which I can now defend,

My body, my life, my style.

I smiled. I win.

Because I know who I am now.

Treasure Found

Thighs

I wrote this for you.

To the girl who's waistline

sometimes goes undefined,

who's hips tend to dominate,

for thighs that occupy the most space.

For stomachs everywhere.

I wrote this for you.

Where the serving

Goes past a salad

When you rather have a satisfied pallet

And

Late night creeping includes

Trips to Whataburger for a

Number 5 double cheese, bacon

And fries cause

You aint ashamed

Your love affair with food gets

Openly acknowledged

At any hour.

Not afraid to exclaim that

Your thighs were molded from

Corn bread and collard greens.

You are a bottomless pit

Thick

The extra exterior blocks

All the bullshit

How ppl are so quick

To bring you down

But only because they can't handle it

Body measurements that exceed societal width

And You embrace every inch of it

Wearing your stamp of commitment

Along the lines of how ur body

Takes eyes on a rollercoaster ride

With many falls and rises

Curves that entice

And if you don't drive hard,

You're likely to run off the road

So hold on tight

That is, if your into a bumpy ride

Oh those thighs

I wrote this for the girl who body claims to fame

Goes by many names.

You are..

Thicker than a snicker, (got that)

Meat on your bones

Junk in the trunk

Voluptuous

Curvacious

Badonkadonk

Donk

With measurements like 36", 29", 45"

You command authority

In double digit sized jeans

10 12 14’s

Leaving grown men to quiver

Just to inhale the same air you breathe

So hug those curves

Love those jeans

And embrace your 26” thighs

We’re the ones who know where the real substance lies

If you feel as though you get overshadowed

Go under the radar

I wrote this for you

Because we thick chicks, need love too

So go thick girl what you gon’ do

"Without pain, there is no poetry. So I embrace the inspiration." -Rae

Strawberry Fields Forever

Sweet nectar against my lips

I love the way your skins graces my skin

I hate the scent that entices me

Teases me

I just can't stay away

But you enjoy luring me

Until, it's payback time

Your tender flesh tastes sweet against

my tongue

Messy one, you are

Tricklin' down my lip you do

I like 'em ripe too

Oh how you make Cali seem

so close to home

Forgotten

I am on that list of forgotten girls.

Not even important enough to

Grace the back of expired milk cartons

And interstate billboards

Because I no longer matter and

You don’t care, that I will forever be

Hidden underneath the

Stack of

Dirty magazines

 And used condom wrappers,

The game you use is not a trapper

Because these eyes cut through your lies

And you don’t want anyone else to know

Your dirty little secret.

The list that is marked “Do Not Touch,”

Because

My ample flesh is not meant to be clutched

The one girl that you couldn’t use as your sexual crutch

You want to dump your frustrations on me

Something easy to lean on when the pain of

Being lonely becomes too heavy,

Then push me off to the side

You want to drench me in the cum stains

Of your promiscuity

So that I may become yet another favored follower

To your freak induced fever

Social networking through old bed springs and

Cheap sheets

A list of those girls who will never be that girl.

Not offering herself up as a gift, 

But more like a constellation prize.

“You didn’t win me over, but at least you tried and

The sanity of my body is something I’ll gladly compromise”

Because she will surely die if she doesn’t

Have someone to hold tonight

Addicted to companionship for

It is a means of acceptance

And unlike me, she is weak

Unable to discern when she is being used

Becoming as worthless as a dollar bill

Oh If your lines could kill,

But they do

My need for intellectual stimulation

Falls to rejection, and is swept under the radar.

It’s so easy to call me high maintenance

When your standards are so low

We whose efforts are forgotten, remain untouchable.

Hidden underneath the stack of dirty

Magazines and tucked between used condom wrappers.

The list marked “Do Not Touch.”