I simply do not write poems anymore, but for some reason, these last few days have been getting to me, and the only way I can process the tragedy and pain over the course of the week is to write.
For Alton, for Philando, for them all, for the many who survive to witness the violence against black bodies...
Be everything you were meant to be
Before the world put its mark on you
Be the one who laughs the loudest,
Teeth shining, unashamed
Laugh in their faces, all of them
Be the joke teller, the joke lover
Feel the laughter from your belly and expel it like a gift
Be the one who sings songs like a child in the choir
Excited by the sound of your own voice
Sway so boldly you lose rhythm
Sing the songs only you want to sing
Repeat them, belt them, write them down
Be the one who dances
Be at the center when you do
Let them see you move with joy and feeling
Dance until your feet scream, till sweat glides down your face
Let them envy you
Be the best lover for yourself
Enjoy yourself every time you see her
Hug her, kiss her, and tell her she’s beautiful
Sit with her quietly on a dusty porch
Braid her hair and tell her secrets
Be the one who speaks the clearest
Speak with confidence and do not falter
Be the code merger and do not switch
Use as many big words as you would like
And use the smaller, silly ones too
Be part of neither this world nor that
Be above them both like the star you are
Exist in one piece with all of your might
Be the one who reflects the sun, and the moon
Claim the universe as your own.
Be the earth beneath your feet
Be and love the roots of the trees
Feel feelings, even pain
But when you feel, feel completely, genuinely
Without fear of attack or expectation of praise
Be without the stain of the world that taught you fear
Wash it off, scrub, reject
Be big, for there is no such thing as too big a spirit
Don’t let them tell you that you were made to be small.