They say, beauty is in the eye of the beholder
But sometimes I ask myself, how can this be?
Cause when I look with my eyes, I only start to feel resent
and I begin to despise, the things I realize like
how my women of color have been simplified, and hypserxualized
how the black woman's body has been used and abused and now
It personifies, sexuality and promiscuity, out of all the things media feeds us these are some of the worst lies
You see cause black women are queens, and when white culture saw their worth, they were rattled
They couldn't help but try to minimize and de-legitimize, and put a guise over the eyes of all that viewed her
She is not just a big ***, big lips or hips
She is the mother of humanity, in her essence from her hair, to lips to her fingertips she is a Queen, and she is to be respected.
And I will die for her honor, We will not go back into slavery days, I will not stand here while she gets up on stage naked and her body is dissected, and her soul, her essence neglected, her heart, her mind infected.
From these queens come the workers, the Kings, without the black woman we have no past and we have no future
We must protect the black woman, for she is sacred like scripture.

I sit on the bed by the window
Naming the falling leaves.
You sit between the scribbled paper walls
Counting the ever-opened scars.
While the coffee grows colder,
I think of you,
Seven hundred and seventy seven
Kilometers away.
While the bottle falls empty?
You hit the floor with it,
About a thousand
Worlds away.

I hold my hand out in the void
In case yours reaches.
You hold still on the damp floor.
Empty bottles are old friends..

I whisper like madmen, words
I don't understand.
You silently hold your breath, while
Inside storms are raging.
Fracturing physical form,
Savagely splintering spirits,
Shattering shimmering souls
In the incessant night, ****** red hue
Flowing
From Little girl Blue.

Like flesh missing from my bones, your absence screams at me
dry days fold into empty nights that even sleep refuses to visit
the warm of your breath starkly unavailable
life it seems left with you
the heart wants what the heart wants
it cut its self out
what use has it of these dry bones
and this longing disposition
seeking only your return
one dropless beat at a time
I wait for the get down
when your eyes breath life back into mine
and brings the flesh back to these bones