Let’s begin where it ends.


Once upon a time, we can’t look each other in the eyes.


and the walls that we broke down,


they shield us even more.


The hurt that comes with the saying of your name brings far greater pain than the shame my father bestowed upon me even before birth.


You transcend in my soul more hatred and anger than two manic parents on too many antipsychotic pills to count.


That letter in the eighth grade, I should have kept,


more than in my heart,


i’ll show you who you really are.


But did you ever penetrate my exterior?


How could you when even I,




do not know what lies beneath.


My biracial, multifaceted being, confuses, as if it were you, lingering to touch.


Identity is more than a question, it is a first love.  


Broken and scarred from cyclical years of searching, you wonder why I am sensitive to every moment and numb to our withdrawal.


I am trying to connect to you! Can’t you see?


Via, text message of course.


The more I call to you, the worse our relationship seems.


Isn’t life about getting what I want?


Maybe we should be crazy kids again.


At the cusp of adulthood, let’s not be grown.


I’d like to throw down my inhibitions, please.


We must live life to move forward. Let us open our eyes, by being ourselves and not caring who looks best, or who looks next, or what anybody ever wants.


Just do.


and do to the best of your ability.


For doing will change this lifetime.  



Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741