4.21.19

I haven’t fully realized what it means to be me

to do what I do

when I speak, they listen

when I go, they follow

because when I go

I lead

I haven’t fully realized what it means to be me

with what I’ve been through

I read about it sometimes, in these journals of mine

I never would’ve thought I’d be here

I haven’t really realized what it means to be me

to be here

that means I kept trying

I kept writing

I kept speaking, going

I didn’t pay too much attention to the becoming, so now I’m not really sure what it means to be me

and I want to be

I want to be

I want to be happy with me, proud of me, patient with me, nice to me, funny to me, beautiful to me

enough to me

4.21.19

from my red prayer journal

2.16.18

  • You teach me about Yourself through Your character
    • You are the epitome of consistency, no one can compare
      • You are the purest love, the gentlest breeze, the highest wave in the richest blue
        • You are You
  • fill me and consume me in You
    • in everything that You are, because You are good
  • reveal Yourself to me, show me where I am in You and where You aren’t in me
    • show me where I lack
      • fill me til I crack
        • let me let You heal me
          • help my disbelief, my uncertainty
  • thank You for another day

re-thinking out loud

“this piece is inspired by a conversation that I had with my dear friend Mordecai

I’m probably picking and choosing and paraphrasing for poetic purposes, but he said that I make more sense when I’m on stage than I do in my day to day life

in my defense, I was very tired, so most of my mind was on the nap I was gonna take the next day

but what he said got me thinking

and I already think a lot

I seem really calm and collected right now because I sat down at 1:54 am monday morning (which should count as sunday night, in my opinion), and dumped a bunch of my thoughts on paper where I could see them

me being on stage is just me re-thinking out loud, which is why it used to be so scary

around this time last year, I was up here for the first time, re-thinking my thoughts

one of the pieces I performed was about what I do when my thoughts get too loud, which is poet for “what I do when I have a panic attack”

and now I’m back, feeling calm and collected because I have my thoughts written out

but I don’t really know what this piece is about Continue reading “re-thinking out loud”

how I’ve made it this far

if I didn’t have my faith, this life would be too much for me

cuz this life, it’s heavy, see

this life, it’s too much weight for me

this life, it doesn’t wait for me

 

if I didn’t have my faith-

faith that

my community would never fail me

faith that

there’s a reason I still breathe

faith in the things I can’t see

 

ọmọ Yoruba ni mi, so, if I didn’t have igbagbọ mi

if I didn’t have imani

who would I be?

 

I could live through life, half awake, half alive

but that would mean I’m lost

that would mean I’ve lost

 

in my faith, I’ve found hope

in my faith, I don’t have to cope

I can move forward

move upward

overcome

thrive

 

I can remember that

I am alive, even when wave after wave of unrest and depression hit me in succession, when they knock me down

cuz like the wise man, I built my house on the Rock

even when I’m on the rocks, like the seed that gets snatched away when the devil comes to play, my Rock holds me

 

my Foundation

will never falter

 

because of my faith, this life will never be too much for me

He’s given me that guarantee

11.29.17

6.5.17

the month i’d turned nineteen

i decided to write a book

i’d been saying it for ages but when i’d think about the pages i’d have to fill i’d just crumble under the responsibility i knew that God had given me

i was overwhelmed

like i had been for years, but it felt like my cries were falling onto deaf ears

and it felt like motivation

to finally be heard 

so the month i’d turn nineteen

i decided to write a book

none of my old poems would be in it and the pages would be granite

or maybe crimson

maybe periwinkle

but it would be beautiful

maybe you’re turning nineteen or twenty two or seventy three but please don’t be like me if you have a book you need to start, or any piece of art, anything that’s on your heart

maybe today’s the day

6.5.17

4.28.18

out of every ten poems I write, there are two, max three, that I like

and I’ve been writing for a long time

 

I’m too nostalgic to delete Wattpad, so I have a poem from 2013 titled “Do Not Erase”

it starts off, “do not efface your face with eyeliner and mascara, foundation and blush”

I haven’t watched enough YouTube videos to know what shade of blush goes with my skin tone, but this NYX mascara I took from my mom is AMAZING

 

and then there’s another poem from 2016, it’s a sonnet actually

I wrote it for my English class

it goes,

“to love, or not to love – that is the question

whether ’tis better better to fall in love or to fall apart, this i do not know

for they are one and the same”

 

it’s actually a really good piece, so i’m glad I still have it

cuz there are years of prose and tears that I’ll never get back

 

out of the seven poems I don’t like, there are four I just can’t read

because they hurt

that’s why I started writing, because I’d hurt

I’d get hurt and I wouldn’t know what to do or who to talk to, so I’d sit in my room and I’d write

you should’ve seen me in 2011, ranting to my nonexistent confidant about all the things that couldn’t possibly be happening

but they were

and I only know this because I still have that Hello Kitty notebook

I’m too nostalgic, so I haven’t burned it

 

I always knew not to play with matches, but it was a warm form of catharsis to watch tearstained papers turn into ash

I’d flush away the evidence and tell myself that it was finished, but deep down I knew that wasn’t right

I don’t use periods when I write

the waves of words wax and wane where they will, but there’s no shore to contain them

they need to squeeze through cracks and soar over waterfalls, so now, when the tears fall, I let them

when the words come, I write them

 

still, most of my poems seem to end with a silent “to be continued”

there are three that I like, four that hurt, and two that I haven’t finished

I just can’t

these pages are a testament to the fact that sometimes, I struggle to see what I see

sometimes I can’t make sense of it

 

some days I’ll sit and I’ll write til I hit blocks I can’t build with

it’s like having a puzzle you can’t finish because you decided to burn half of the pieces

I can’t even blame her, the old me

she’s a part of my poetry

 

out of those ten poems, the estimated ratio to quantify what I’ve produced, the one that remains is who I am

who I was

and who I will be

in every piece, there is me

every time I create, I’m mimicking the Creator, trying to make sense of the creation that I am

trying to find His satisfaction, trying to find appreciation

no matter how many pieces I write, songs I sing, prelims I pass (or fail)

no matter what I do, none of that matters if I can’t find the peace in who I AM says I am

4.28.18

a letter to myself

you

are resilience

in the face of adversity, you reflect brilliance

it bounces off the facets of a diamond formed by pressure

yes you, are a treasure

you

are innovation

like a stream, you squeeze through cracks and soar over waterfalls, you find your way and you flow

you flourish

you

are music

written by the Master Composer, you are composed of odes written to the heavens, notes that line up perfectly with the next person’s melody

you

are harmony

you are exquisite

from the grooves etched into your fingertips to the divot right above your lips, even the birthmark hidden near your hip

every last bit of you is intentional

you are a spectacle

a sight to be seen

a being to take in and appreciate

an opportunity to demonstrate the wonders of who you are

who I AM says you are

you are creation

you defy expectation, existing purely in spite and wholly by might

you are the present

you are present, in this moment

take it all in

it is a gift

a gift I call, “a letter to myself”

4.22.18