Tuesday, September 18

i wrote a poem six months ago
the first line'll make you cry
"i don't want to fall in love again
'cuz i don't wanna die."

finally mourned the passing of
what you and i had shared
the sudden rush of freedom
had me feeling cold and scared

but i wrote another one
a week before you met me
after working, thinking, feeling, fucking
setting my demons free

"i want to fall in love," it went
and described with exactly whom
lo and behold, i realize now
it was describing you


Friday, July 6


What impractical compassion
Flouting impossibility
Prone to mindless loving action
To overspend and undersee

You're a vision on the water
Inspiration to the blind
Never leaving sin unaltered
Never questioning the time

And if they claim
another way to measure beauty
If they say
Another's got it up on you
If they try
To convince you're just impractical
It's true
It's true

Wednesday, June 27


g d am 
g d am
g d am 
c c-g

em bm c
em bm c
em bm c
am - d

it's been a year now since i left
we chat from time to time
i wonder still whether i'll always love you best
or if there's someone else 
coming down the line

told me a bit about some dates
never ask me about mine
if you let me i'd tell you i relate
and it's hard out there and it'll just take time


it's ok if you still love me 
i've got the same goddamn thing
pressing hard against my chest when i'm alone
i'm often alone


i don't regret a single thing 
try not to think of you and me
know i'll be happy when the springtime flowers bloom
a couple years from now you'll see

it's ok if you still love me 
i've got the same goddamn thing
pressing hard against my chest when i'm alone
i'm often alone

Sunday, February 5

shit people say to mixed people

dear white people:
i don't understand how you can think
asking me "what are you" isn't fucking insulting!
especially when it's the second thing you've ever
said to me after finding out my name

what are you.
and when i say
"excuse me"
please understand
that i heard you and
am giving you a chance
to give it up
know this. i
don't mean follow up with
"no, i mean, like
where are you from?"
because i'm going
to answer california
and when you follow up
with "no like, what
nationality are you"
and I say American
I would think that after
three strikes
you would get the point
but for some reason.

for some reason,
you keep going.
"where are your parents from?"
"no, like, what is your race?"
"ethnicity."
"cultural background."
"like, where are your ancestors from?"

presumably the same place as yours, motherfucker!
really tho.

and i can't get too mad because if I honestly asked you
what you were really asking
you wouldn't know and
it's just curiosity
why the animosity

"oh, i don't mean to be, like, offensive."
you know what? most people don't.
most people don't try to be racist either
but you fuckers
keep on
asking me
these questions

what gave you the idea that
you have the right to know this about me?

i'm sorry, white people but
i don't have the desire
nor the obligation
to divulge that personal information
so please go away
and label and categorize
some other ambiguously ethnic
person of color

because i've had enough for
right now
and it might not feel like that's what
you're doing
but that's exactly what you're doing?

you have been trained since birth to know who is
and who is not a white person
and of course the rules have changed
over the years but you get me.
and then here i come.
blowin up your binary.
that's what you're doing.
getting to the core of the issue:
are you white or not?
and guess what.
that feels exactly as you might expect it to
had you come out and said
"excuse me, are you white?
because I want to know whether
I should feel in-group solidarity with you
or tap into my arguably rational fear of difference."

and that's not all y'all say.

which one of your parents is black?
your dad? yeah i thought so.

how did you do that to your hair?
it's natural? come on.
no i mean, like, did you perm it?
do you curl your hair every morning?
can i touch it?
oh my god it's so springy.

if you're half and half
then why did you say "half-black"
instead of "half-white?"
do you like your black side
better?

your dad's black? is he like, a gangsta?
does he wear like, ice?

do you ever wish you were full white?
do you ever wish you were full black?

so - is the bottom half
the black half?

you look middle eastern.
you look mexican.
i don't even think of you as black.

you know what. i don't think blacks and whites
should ever have kids.
it's too confusing for 'em.

that last one stung.
motherfucker told me to my face
that i'd be better off having
not been born.

you know what's the worst thing though?
That conversation happened once
and motherfucker was kind of an
extremist.
The worst thing about
being mixed is that
i deal with this every fucking day.

and it makes me feel like motherfucker was right.

Tuesday, November 15

i don't wanna fall in love again

something like

am dm em em

c f g f 

i don't wanna fall in love again
cuz i don't wanna die
gotta feeling like another round of this heartbreak will
squeeze the little life left in me dry

and i know that i have done you wrong
confess my bitter failure to the sky
if anyone is listening, though i doubt it, well, one still can hope
that someone, anyone will reply

you are worthy of the promise you've been given
the past is nothing take all your regrets
bundle them with defeat and intransigence
strive forward until you have nothing left

but what's a silly hope in something greater
all around me is just frailty and defect
poverty, war and politics remind me that i don't mean shit
what more of myself could i expect

that i am worthy of the promise i've been given
the past is nothing take all my regrets
bundle them with defeat and intransigence
strive forward until i have nothing left

i want to believe that i can love again
free from the burden of my mistakes
i want to know i'm not my inadequacy
to hear trusted lover softly say

you are worthy of the promise you've been given
the past is nothing take all your regrets
bundle them with defeat and intransigence
strive forward until you have nothing left