my fingers
hovered
over the screen
ghosting over the letters
thinking of texting you
like it could somehow
let you know I was thinking of you

and I have fifteen
pictures of you on my phone
and I looked over them all
like seeing your face
in two dimensions
could make up for the fact that
I hadn't seen in it three
for two days

and then you were right behind me
and I don't think you noticed what I was doing
but god, it felt like happenstance
was on my side

because your voice
there's nothing too special about it
objectively
(as if I could ever be
objective
about you)
it's not deep
or husky
or dripping ***
like some people I know
and most of the time it's not quite soft
it's slightly slippery but
with sandpaper edges
but I love it
because it's yours

and  I love the face you make before you sing
off-key, usually
but you don't hold back and
I love you for that too

and you're not particularly tall (you're exactly average, actually)
(but I'm barely on the tall side of average and
she's even taller so
you seem smaller than you are)
or dark
or even handsome, by most standards
but you're like a breath of fresh air every time I see you
(swiftly taken away by your bone-crushing hug)

and I love the face you make
when you're skeptical
even though it looks nothing
like a skeptical expression should

I even don't hate
the things I should hate you for
because you have never
made me feel like I am
difficult to love
(even though
I think I am)

Although I'm a little annoyed with
how you made all my love poems
disturbingly heteronormative
for a while

I loved you
before you told me
explicitly
that you liked
being around me
and I loved you even more after that

good god,
I love you so

and it scares me because I shouldn't
and it scares me because I can't
and it scares me because one or both of us will end up hurt
but I'll take the pain
now and later
I'll always sacrifice
for the happiness of my friends
like I said
and you thought I was being so kind and
noble
but I think it's cowardice
and it has
never
felt like a choice

i don't watch home movies
hate them
reason being because
when i was young
i was looking for a movie
my mother
had recorded for me
and accidentally
put one in the vcr
that i'm not sure
i was supposed to see
i know the obvious response
"uh oh, ****"
sorry to disappoint
they were only marked with dates
  1991
on live television
montel williams asks my father
"how can you just throw
your child away like a piece of trash?"
   1994
i spend so much time
in the emergency room
that my parents stop
penciling in growth marks
on the frame
of my bedroom door
i always thought
it was because they believed
i would never grow out
of this sickness
sometimes i believe
the reason that they
never bought me a dream catcher
was because they never thought
i'd live long enough
to see them come true
   1996
i am eliminated
from a spelling bee
because i didn't know
the 'dad' is silent in 'family'
   2013
before i got into poetry
i used to do standup
none of my jokes were funny
one of the other comics
tells me my skits are dry
sometimes sad
he says "why don't you joke
about something like your family?"
so i say
"i never wore any sunblock
because i didn't want anything
to keep me from my father"
i say "what do you call christmas
without lights or heat?"
before he has a chance
to answer
i say "1997. better yet
why don't you
make like a dad and
leave"
   2014
every time we drive
past the hospital
my mother reminds me
how much it cost to save my life
like she'd rather
have her money back
she doesn't have to say
that sometimes she wishes
it was me who had died
instead of my brother
i can hear it in the way
she says "love you"
sometimes i imagine
that if i were to die
that she
would pick out a casket for a child
because she never loved
the person i became
yesterday i told my father
how close i'd been
to suicide lately
and he said
"that's my boy,
livin on the edge.."
and i can't remember
if i laughed
or cried

An old friend of mine, once asked of me
to mailed, one of my ****** to him
To him, it meant a lot.
however, for me this meant that mailing
an image of my beauty was a blessing for him
but for him to display my white thong,
on his easel seems enticing at that moment in time
was I expanding his ****** collection?
Now that’s the question

I felt my body rise, when he kiss my lips that summer
my unforgiving heart, has no pride

Its seem laughable now, however
Yesterday is History, Tomorrow a Mystery,
Today is a gift, tomorrow is a blessing,
I am now an avow woman in this matter