bless the woman i am now / bless all my stories / bless the men i kissed and wrapped my squeeze so glue / bless the ones who stayed / bless my skin / so leather through the prickliest storms / bless my sisters with hands form a circle / together like rope wire over my space / ain't nothin' no good gettin' through / bless all the rocks / the thorns and bushes / bless the sky / bless blue / bless red / bless the thunder / bless the boogie men / bless the dodged bullets / the mentors / magic / the moon / bless all the blood / the babies / bless the bridges / bless the thoughts / bless the prayer / the whisper / the groan / mud / the stones / bless the good days / bless the night / and the waves
2. picked
i was never one of those women lucky with love / not that kind of love / you know the love / the love with fire tongues and rock fingers bold enough to hold / that sticky love with bodies that stay / i was always too happy to be chosen / never the chooser / always too ready to prove what a good friend i was / how understanding / see how much i can take / see how fast i forgive / don't you want a down ass bitch like me / too quick on the fuck / too ready with audition sex / you know the sex / see how long i can wait / for you call / for you feelings / look ma no hands / see how well i ride a dick / don't you love me yet / you want me to scrub you toilet nice and clean / you want your name in a poem / yo mama need a ride somewhere / yo sister need a new homegirl / you let me know ok / you / let / me / know / i was four when i went down on the neighborhood boy / girl next door held my head / made it go up and down / i must have done a real good job / way he came in my mouth / way she threatened if i told / i was groomed for you / preacher man stuck his tongue in my mouth / sunday after sunday / ain't i wife material yet / count it all joy / ain't that what the scripture say / you want to see me not talk back / eat all my food when you pay / when i said i had a headache and you said you didn't want to fuck my head anyway / didn't i grin a little like it was funny / don't you love me yet / don't you know how tire i am / how retired i am / how out of the game i am / how ready i am to start a forever with / me
3. ever
he told his friend that he could never marry a woman like me and at first i was all in my feelings then i was like wait / he's right / he could never
4. days
when a prayer is out loud / when words so lava throat pushes out groans / because what are words to a god who holds the moon / what is pressure to a woman becoming a pearl / what dial measures this kind of wait / this kind of be still and know / this kind of baby hold on / when the mind wonders if god is actually through with you yet / what song then / when the body begins to long for a chariot to carry you home / when fingers flip through yesterdays in search of where it all went wrong / bur you know this is not a punishment / you know god always got a plan / when the history books remind you the generations your grandmothers picked cotton / when you wonder how long oh lord / how long / when sky been dark so long day is only a story you heard over and over / when rest is not for you / when you are anxietiey's best braid / when there is no other option but to roll yourself up into a french twist and work your fingers to the nub / and you better look good doing it / when there are no ears for your woes / when you think you just might make it another day / when you have lunch at the bridge where you might jump / when you finish the lunch / when you drive away / when you live to see another night / when you have lorazapam and rat poison and whiskey in the glovebox / when a night will come when enough is enough / when you have given up hope of the bus coming for you / when you are moses only sent to lead the people / when the promised land is not for you / you flip the coin you have left / and tails / and tails
5. Dear Uraeus
I wish you a love that will reach into you
A love that longs to know you deeper than the dark of your dreams
I wish you a hand to hold
A fist that will break through generations of curses and spells
I wish you feet that will walk through mud
A smile to brighten your brickiest day
My love, may you know arms that embrace you so squeeze
The most golden pieces of you shine through to brighten both your paths
You deserve a love you cannot spell
Cannot define
Cannot say out loud
A love you will know when you taste it
May your love cherish the sound of your laughter
Your licorice skin and magnet heart
You pull out all the good stories
I wish you good stories
Good touches
Good whispers
Good secrets in the dark and early of day
I wish you day
Plenty of days
Plenty of time to water good dreams
I wish you dreams, Uraeus
Dreams that change the world we know
I wish that you know
That you hold and care and heal and create
Create air and space
Create good
Create a you
Like you
6. Black like me
I am a woman in the way
Loud, Black, angry, free and caged
Diagnosed and unmedicated
I have to watch my tone and dress
It is my fault if I am raped
Way this ass shakes
These titties bounce
Everyone knows I am a whore
Everyone knows I am nothing more than a good placeholder
Soon a pretty woman will come along
You can play in her hair
You can see through her skin
You will keep her nice and safe
Everyone knows what a good cook I am
How spotless I keep a house
Keep the children in line too
I stay up late at night
Always available and lucky to get your call
We can talk about racism all night long
Talk about Harriett and Malcolm
Talk about Trayvon and Sandra
Did you see the news today
You see what they did
Everyone knows I know all the news
Everyone knows I keep you laughing
Everyone knows I know my place
With my sensitive self
With my always taking things too personal self
With my extra self
My silly acting self
My attention seeking self
Everyone knows how emotional I am
Everyone knows how much attitude I have
Everyone knows Black women don't need as much love
Because we so strong
Because we so built to last
Because we gotta make it
Everyone knows it is best to put the bills in my name
Everyone knows I keep a few extra dollars
I keep a dime in my purse
Everyone knows my money your money too
Everyone
Everyone
Everyone knows I entertain well
Can keep a smile on my face
A song in my throat
A dance between my toes
Everyone knows bruises don't show up on me
Everyone knows how well I take a punch
Everyone
Everyone
Including me
7. word
the first draft of a poem should be scribbled in a mind that knows its body ain't free / all that truth should feel like gallstones / like a bag of rocks on fire in your belly and gotta come out / don't / then you die / don't / then the whole world ain't safe / ain't that a poet's job / sweep this world up clean as it can get / a poem should be ugly / should start off wrinkled and loud and innocent and bloody / should taste like flint water / should be dense as georgia dirt / opaque as l.a. sky / a poem should leave traces all over your carpet / all up on your couch / all these babies dying / some killing they own selves / women missing every day / police ain't never been no good / even a happy poem got pulp / even a love poem got seeds / a poem should have lines carved out / should ask a question it can't answer / it should sold an old problem / should dare you to dream a world outside your little ole life / should make you remember that hell is here / heaven too / heaven right here too / a poem should tell you ain't no life easy / my grandmother five times great was a slave on this good land / probably picked cotton / probably forced to have some white man's child / maybe died tied to a tree never knowing her own name / a poem should take you back / make you wonder if your nightmare ain't really a memory / a poem should sit with you on the bus stop on a rainy night and wonder if jesus see all this / should ask what is taking him so long / oh you ain't ready / ain't ready to wonder if god and the devil had theyselves one good ole laugh / i tell you / a poem should offer you its hand to squeeze while you release clots and boils and flesh / one story at a / time
8. Friend
You can call me with nothing to say
You silence scream as breeze
I will listen to your heavy breath on the line
I will read between sighs
I will not figure it out for you
I will sit in the suckiness of sadness with you
Sometimes the solution is in the listening
When you are on the verge of losing your mind
When your fists are raised even at God
I will hear you
I will pray with you
I will fight and scream with you
I will hold the garbage you want to dump
Your trash will not be too heavy
Your worries never too burden for my lifting
Wallow and curse and tear
I will cover you to to the other side
I will not rush you
I am not afraid of your tears
Your anger and fears will not push me away
I am a mountain, a gorilla, a tree, a rock, a brick, a lion, a vault
Tell me what you need
Call me by name and watch me come
Running
9. Climb
Because there are rifle and gun and knife days
When the wet of a shower is Everest and a forever climb
When covers wrapped rubix cube are a locked cage
And I am a zoo animal
Not to be fed or touched or looked at the wrong way
Or too long
When a cry is more companion than good love
When the easy of anything is too far
When I believe the voices
The ones not my friend
The days I have to remind myself
I cannot fly
That my head will splatter like egg
Like lie
Like hate if I jump
Like there are no do overs
Like there is only right now
When the only balm is in my happy place
Somewhere in my secrets
Hold me then
When you see me falling
When clouds are so low
My own name has been carved like splinter
From my remember
Help me find simple
When the nights are too heavy
When the forgive will not come
When I am hopeless and
Memories haunt like a horror flick
Massage this madness
Done spilled down my thighs
In between my toes
Back up through my spine
I will find myself again
In the open of some small crack in the morning
I will see clearly
Will lily and rose myself to life again
Just wait for me there
Just love me easy
If you can
10. Me
I am a river
That flows into
Bigger rivers
The rabbit that
Runs across graves
The subtle shake
The simple quiver
I am a chorus
A question
An unloaded gun
A bullet nearby
I am a holy war
A quiet riot
11. Depression
It is a wild fire
It is bigger than a hashtag
A terror
A bad tooth
This sad is a death
I have died and come back to life
I fought the devil
I got out of bed
I stayed in bed
I have been afraid of a shower
Days at a time
Avoided a toothbrush
Pained my way to the toilet
Do you want to talk about it
Do you want to change the subject
Do you want to run away
Will you listen when I call
Are you tired of me yet
Show me a valley
A voice
Greater than this depression
This thing is not convenient
Is not polite
Fuck your feelings
Fuck your life
What you believe
The god you know
This thing will keep you awake at night
Quoting scripture to you
And you call yourself a poet
Describe this heat
This brick so nasty
This thing comes with voices
That dares me to bleed
To jump
To swallow all the pills
To die more times
To wish for death
This thing is courageous
It is bold and badder than your preacher
It moves
It lives mostly in my fingers
Daring me to not have a future
It will jump in front of a moving truck
It pulls out hair
It is a wicked symphony
That will not end
It is the worst poem
It dares you to pray it away
This is a dizzy that has moved in
A building I bang my head against
Every day
12. we
you are a poem i keep starting over / scratching out lines / looking for the right phrase / you are the stanza i cannot get good / the performance that will not mouth well / i don't trust you on the open mic of my life / we are too much metaphor / i am bored with our story / tired of the rewrite / too grown for sight words
13. Hustle
Will work for food
Will fuck for money
Will suck for a shower and a night out
Anal for a months rent
I will be your pretty girl
I will call you Daddy
You can be my Superman
Keep me safe off the ground
Do you know concrete women like me
Do you know how we live
Do you know what we do for a tampon
A cheeseburger
A shake
I will kiss you slow
I will wear my hair long
You want a skinny woman
You wanna see how fast I skinny
You seen me before
Women like me
Sleeping on bus stops
Under trees
No shoes
I clean up well
I pretty up nice
I fuck real good
I have given up on this life
Can't you tell
Tell me what you want me to be and I'll be
Tell me what to say
Take me to your place
I'll sit nice and quiet
Do you want a queen
Do you want a whore
Do you want a slut or a cunt
Do you want me spread all over your body
Do you want to know how I got here
Do you want to know my story
Will you give me a hug
Some fries
May I keep the change
Will you save my life
14. Nothin'
I know shame when I see it
I know a black eye under makeup, under glasses
When it slithers in a room
I know the smell of a punch in the gut
The slap on a face
The pinch on an arm
Because you ain't nothin'
Because you can't cook
Because the food was late
Because he looked bad in front of his friends
I know that hole in the wall was meant for you
I know you pray to make it home on time
Gotta be there on time
Bitch, where you been
Bitch, it don't take that long to go to the store
Bitch, fuck your feelings
Bitch, dry them tears
Because ain't nobody never got time for what you got
Because you ain't never gon be nothin'
Because you ain't goin' nowhere
Because you ain't cute
Because you better take what I give you
Because you better like it
Don't let him be drunk tonight
Don't let him hit me tonight
Don't let him call me a lazy cunt in front of the kids tonight
I see a prayer all over you
I see hope fading fast
I see you staring at gun
I know you are planning for just the right
Time
15. Serious
Busy as death
Serious as fucking
Weapon as shark as teeth as war
I am an army
You should believe me when I cry
Quiet as creek
Ripple as air
Steady as hand as star as rock
Do you hear me
Can you feel my drumming
How I rhythm for you
If you listen you know
I been trying to tell you
Life got me down sometimes
I am science as magic
Still I can't get my groove
This ain't living
This hustle is murder
I am too old for this shit
Too fly for this giving
Why am I like this
Like this awkward
Like this freak
Like this down
Like this blues
You see this mask I wear
Gotta pretend to be sky when I am clay
Who believes a Black woman can be in pain
All nappy headed and feet and hips and thighs
Girl, you better get in that kitchen
Girl, you better clean for your man
Girl, you better act like you like it
I am lonely as fire
Safe as math
I am run as slave
Can I get a break in this piece
Can I borrow a dollar
Can I kiss a prince
Can I live a life
16. back in the day
years ago / i was using a pay phone in front of a liquor store on la brea / i told this story before / but that was myspace / and this is now / four men were coming out of the parking lot as i was off the phone / brother in the back seat rolled down his window and asked me my name / i said something clever / something not my name / do you got a man / he asked / yeah / yeah i do / i lied the lie we lie / the lie we shouldn't have to lie / the lie i thought would be enough / then why don't you suck our dick then / he shouted / immediately / the brother in the passenger's seat turned around and socked him in the chest so hard i could almost feel it / said man / you don't be talkin' to that kinda bitch like that / because that's who i am / that / kinda bitch / a bitch like his big mama / his auntie / that / kinda / bitch
17. no indeed
it was around '94 and i was bald and fly / heading out the door / my grandmother said / better put you a hat on or folks gon think you a skinhead out there / no they not, grandma / no they not
18. My father's life lesson
Last night in class the lesson was twists in stories. For some reason we started sharing stories about dogs. Made me remember a time I was walking home from my grandparent's house, around the corner from ours. I was almost home when the next door neighbor's dog came out. I have always been afraid of dogs. The more the dog barked at me the more afraid I was. I was almost home. One house away! And then this monster. I screamed for my dad, for my mother, somebody. When my dad opened the screen door I knew I was saved. But he didn't move. I called for him to come and get me. Rescue me from the dog. He still didn't move. He said, "I'm gon be right here. But you got to cross the dog on yo own." My father was one for life lessons but this one was ill timed, I thought. Looking back though. Looking back maybe that was the best lesson of my life. All those dark and scary and hard nights and lonely mornings. All those times I didn't know if I would make it. Knowing help was out there but not feeling it next to me. I cried for my father but the tears didn't work. But he was there, watching me take one cautious step and then another. Watching me. Cross the dog. All on my own.
19. Boy, bye!
my son was maybe two / and i was pushing him in a stroller / enjoying the farmers market downtown long beach one friday / and ran into a man i knew / a man i thought i might want to know more / until he said / my son was very handsome / but his hair was really nappy / and if mine was like his / he understood why i cut it / and then i smiled the smile i smiled / and gave thanks / for feet to walk / away
20. To God's ear
I was in the At&t store today and an older Black woman from Trinidad was waiting ahead of me when she got a call. Maybe from her granddaughter or some other kin. I could hear the woman on the other end of the line sobbing heavily. "Stop crying while I pray." And then right there she prayed for her. And I felt all of it like she was praying for me. And when she was leaving she shook my hand and held it longer than a shake like she knew.
21. My father. My memory.
Today is my father's birthday. He is no longer here. But it is still his birthday. I honor and remember him today. I miss his humor and wisdom. I thank him for being a good listener. I thank him for loving me. We had so many conversations as father and daughter that many might not understand. But I understood. There were ways our relationship was complicated. Alcohol got in the way sometimes. Often in fact. My mother and aunt tell me stories about him before the drinking. Before Vietnam, where he started drinking. But I didn't know that man. Still, I cherish the memory of the man I knew. It could not have been easy for him. A young man overseas fighting in a war heavily protested. His job there was picking up dead bodies with his hands. Bodies of some men he knew that would split as he held them. Imagine those ghosts.
I miss our talks. Drunk or not he was hands down the funniest man who ever lived. Fight me. And he was wise. And would kill for me. That complicated our relationship also. Because I knew he would in fact kill for me. Once he told me that he wanted me to always know that I could tell him anything. No matter how shameful or whatever. I could come to him. He said if I told him that if I had sex with nineteen men in one night but I had only chosen to be with eighteen of them and I told that last man no then I could tell him that and he wouldn't judge me but for me to know that he was going after that "nineteenth motherfucker." You had to be there. You had to know him. He called me while I was living in Georgia. He asked me if I was dating anyone. I told him no. He said, "Damn, it was somebody cute at the store just now. I could go back down there if you want me to." We had a good laugh. Again, you had to be there.
Our last conversation was also while I was in Georgia. He called early one morning. "Verily, verily I say unto you." He started conversations like that because he said that he and Jesus had to have some way of letting their listeners know when they were being serious. He started his story. He was drunk. But so fucking what. He said, "You know, the shark got a bad rep. I'm gonna tell you why. You will never be walking down a dark alley and a shark start chasing you. Shark ain't never gonna break in your home. Only way a shark get you is if you go to the ocean. So the trick to life is to know your ocean. If you a crackhead you can't live by the crack house because that's your ocean. If you shop too much you can't live by the mall because that's your ocean. Only way a shark get you is you go to the ocean and if you get eaten it ain't the shark fault because the shark just thinks you're food." You had to be there. To hear him tell you himself. I miss my father. He was ready to go though. He was ready.
After his first heart attack I found out from my aunt. He said his army buddies would have too big a laugh if he called home about some little bitty ole heart attack. He didn't survive the next one though. But he is somewhere, schooling lesser comedians.
I loved him and I still do. I could write a book on stories about him.
22. on the road again
it's 2005 / maybe 06 / i am driving alone from los angeles to atlanta / get pulled over by a cop somewhere in oklahoma / follows me a long time / trying to come up with a reason / i guess / i am careful / i follow the rules / he backs off / i change lanes / he comes up fast behind me / says i didn't signal when i switched / story of my life / it is a hot day / i remember / no one knows me in oklahoma / not that i have a cell phone anyway / his voice booms from the speaker / demanding i get out slowly and walk back to his car / this is not how we get tickets at home / but where would i make a complaint / best do what he says / best pray i leave this alive / i stand outside his passenger door / open / k-9 in the backseat / get in / cop says / get in the car / i ask / yes get in / his patience is growing thin / i sit at the edge of the seat / one leg on the ground / close the door / close the door / i ask / i'm really afraid of your dog / i confess / i cautiously close the door / i'm not used to getting into a police car to get a ticket / what did i do anyway / why am i here / why did you follow me so long / alone / alone / black and woman and alone / alone / alone / with a dog / and a cop / and his gun / and his clear eyes and white skin / on a highway / in the heat / come through, somebody / come through / you didn't signal / where are you going / who is expecting you / why are you here / and this ain't no time for a clapback / and my bones still shaking like puppy / he knows i am afraid / he knows i watch the news / he knows we both see / color / and more questions / and questions / about nothing / about l.a. / words about the weather / like this is a date / like i don't know what this is / like he knows who is in control / mother may i / mother may i / i only want to leave / give me my ticket so i can go / go / go away / away / away / and never come back / he let me off with a warning / and we know this is not about a lane change / we know this game of red rover red rover send black girl right over / is about power / about control / about sit until you are dismissed / dismissed / let go / go / away / away / allowed to live / long as i / know
23. i was in the first or second grade / eating in the cafeteria / sitting between two big kids / a boy and a girl / and the boy demanded i scoot over / away from him /like i had cooties / avoiding cooties is a big deal when you are a kid / i scooted / as if on cue the girl told me to scoot back over / so i did / they were big and who was i / i scooted back and forth between them for however long / i didn't cry / but i scooted enough times to learn / i was a girl in the way
24. education
in high school i took a psychology class / and i don't remember what the lesson was this day / but the teacher stood in front of the class / and said to the young ladies / when we go on dates / that we should sit with our legs crossed / and take the shoe of the crossed leg half off and dangle it from our toes / because that always drives men wild
25. K. L.
when i asked him why he packed two condoms when he went away on business trips / and he told me just in case he got seduced / and why was i trippin' because he always came back with two
26. sister friends
about that time i was dating this guy / then we broke up / then the next week i was performing at doboys on crenshaw when that was the late night spot / and the guy walked in with a woman / and sat in the front row / and i went to the car and cried / and my homegirl followed me / and got in the car and listened / then cut me off and said / you are ja muthafuckin ha and you better get yo ass back in there and act like it / and i remembered why we were homegirls / not that i ever forgot / but from time to time / i look in the mirror and go / yeah / i sure am
27. how
i should have known / when you said you loved me / but you didn't love yourself / i should have wondered / how a thirsty man could give away / water
28. king
one time i was at a gas station in long beach / parked at the pump / counting quarters in my change jar / so i could put in more than eight dollars / and the guy in the truck next to me sat there / watching me / not leaving / still not leaving / still / when I finally got out / i was slightly afraid / because what did he want / because why was he there / still / still / he let down his window / said / you got it sis / do you have enough / i didn't want to leave / til i knew you had enough / you need more / i have more if you need / my shoulders fell / smile danced my face / thank you so much / thank you / i have what i need / but thank you for waiting / so patiently for me
29. pistol
when the cop pulled up next to me at the light i looked over at him / next thing i knew / lights flashed behind me / is my tail light out officer / what i do wrong sir / he said i looked at him at the light / looked at you / he said my eye contact made me suspicious / i am a suspicious black woman driving alone at night / my brown eyes looking into his blues / so glad i didn't smile and show my teeth / glad i didn't wave / might have thought i was raising a power fist / a weapon / might have thought i was a terrorist / don't know why i didn't know better / who i think i am / looking at a white man / a cop no less / ain't i got no better sense / ain't i learned nothing from n.w.a. / don't i watch the news / don't i know this body of mine / a threat
30. lift hands
shout out to inglewood / for the forty-three days of living in hotels / motels / never holiday inns / for the thousands of dollars spent / for clean towels / for the lead on a new place / pray saints / shout out to saints / for the books that sold / for the paintings folks bought / for the gigs booked / for the class i teach / for the clients i serve / for waking up at four in the morning in prayer and praise and hustle and worry / for the depression that has not crippled me / the mania that has not convinced me to jump off a bridge / shout out to the meds i haven't taken since june because i swallowed a bunch of pills on some fuck it / shout out to god who let me sleep the whole next day / shout out to family who never ask where i am or if i'm eating / fyi i am eating / shout out to good days / when the hotel fees are paid for the week / when law & order and criminal minds marathons are plenty / shout out / shout out / shout out for the new level up / for this me i did not know myself to be / for this alone that has taught me everything / shout out to my son on this journey with me / for his clear head and heavy hustle / for the lessons he has learned / shout out to the voices in my head who sound like ex lovers who fight with me / on the freeways / late at night / in line at the bank / for the hot showers / the clam chowder soup at the vons on hillcrest and manchester / for that good good drive up atm at wells fargo / shout out / shout out / shout out to the bruno's across the street from mcdonald's / shout out to the french toast special with sausage / shout out goddammit for the high stakes / for knowing that we will sleep inside or outside depending on the sales / shout out for always the sales / for the come through in the middle of the night / shout out for sense enough to give thanks to god / shout out to the gratitude log / for the blog / the journals / the doodles in the margins / my toni morrison books in dietra's garage / shout out to homegirls / to dollar stores / to late night texts / to the journey i wouldn't take nothin' for / to this moment / to the days ahead / shout out for being fly and looking like my shit is together / shout out for together / for fly / for love / for the angels and ancestors who know
31. Spilled milk
This morning I woke up thinking about a time when Uraeus was about four months old and we were going with my family to Las Vegas to celebrate my step father's birthday. I think we were all in my mom's SUV. I didn't know my status as bipolar at that time but looking back I was rapidly cycling between mania and depression. On top of that I was experiencing postpartum depression. Adding more, at that time for work I was babysitting my friend's newborn twins. Her sons were a month older than Uraeus and I was not being paid the rate anyone should be paid to babysit twin newborns. I wasn't even being paid friends and family rate. She was paying me $100 a month and somehow seemed to take pride in that. One time she even said, "I do pay you a whole hundred dollars." It's laughable now, but it wasn't then. Ok, let's add more, my relationship with my son's dad was ending. It was a lot. That's the background, now back to the story.
We were on the way to Vegas and were almost at the hotel. Somehow my milk for Uraeus spilled in my bag and I lost it. Emotionally it sent me EVERYWHERE. I don't remember what I said but I lashed out at my mother and just created an awkward mood for everyone. I was literally crying over spilled milk. When I could get my mother alone I apologized for my outburst but she didn't want to hear it. Not that I blame her. I mean, from her perspective, it was MILK. And there I was acting like my life was over. I didn't know how to explain to anyone what I was going through. I didn't understand it myself.
When Uraeus and I got in the room my sister, who had just had a baby herself, brought me some milk. I remember her handing it to me like, here, dang, it's just milk. And to her, it was just milk, but to me, my life was ending. Or at least I wanted it to be. That's the thing about bipolar brains. EVERYTHING could be a life or death situation. I was dealing with so much and didn't know how I was going to get out of it.
The room Uraeus and I were in had two full beds. One was for us and the other was for my mom and step father. Before Richard, my step father, got in the room, I was standing in front of the window in the hotel. I was just standing there looking out. My mental clouds were very dark. When Richard came in the room I went to the bed and just started crying uncontrollably. I tried to be as quiet as I could but it wasn't a secret. He didn't say anything to me. Not that I remember anyway. When my mother came in the room he told her that I had been crying. I don't remember her saying anything either. Maybe they didn't know what to say. Maybe they were upset. I don't know. I mean here it was Richard's birthday and the family was all together and here I was...acting like that.
I think this memory came up today because yesterday I posted a picture on Instagram of my gas gage in my car. It was on E and the gas light was on. I posted a caption with the picture that said Kinda how I feel. This morning I saw a comment on the photo that said, "Ain't nothing a little cash can't cure." The person who posted the comment is a friend and the comment was posted with all the best intentions. And she is right. She doesn't know that I am living in a hotel and paying rent by the day and tired from working like crazy and selling art and discounting my prices so that I can make my daily money goal. She doesn't know how that yellow gas light almost sent me into tears. And how could she know it? This is not about her. It's about me and where I am. It's about me on one hand feeling so blessed and powerful that I'm even making it and on the other hand feeling SUPER tired and needing a break. When I saw the comment for a quick second I was back in that hotel, crying over milk.
This morning is a different story. My gas is still on E but I'll make it. I'll get to work. I'll get some money. I'll get to where I'm going tonight. I'll sell some paintings. Please God, let me sell some paintings. I'll get some gas. I'll be ok. I will you know. I will be ok.
32. Love. Grandmother. Hands.
I was in like / the 4th or 5th grade / and Pam was a bully / we called her Big Pam / and my grandmother heard she had been pushing me around / and nobody pushes me around / she drove me to school / in her brown and beige station wagon / and walked me up and down the playgrounds / the big playground and the little playground / to find this Pam / to see those hands that push / she walked up to every girl on the playground / is that her / she asked / that her / that one / that one / no / no / no / and then there was Pam coming into the gate / standing right next to my grandmother / eyes big as saucers / I never saw Pam afraid before / is that her / and I was afraid too / is it / is it her / Pam shook her head no / slow as she could / no / no that's not her / Pam left to go play / my grandmother said / I think that was her / and you were just scared to say / tell her she bet not put her hands on you again / how did she know / how could she know / grandmothers just know / I guess / grandmothers just / know
33. What's so. Fear and faith. This mind and body.
Sometimes I am all about that Lizzo life and I'm feeling good as hell and there are other times and sometimes at the same times as the Lizzo times when I am wildly uncomfortable with my body with this flesh that has stretched and fallen and I should be all about that big girl life but then what the fuck are shoulds and who the fuck needs a should anyway and my gait is slow and unsteady way I walk up and down stairs one step at a time and my homegirl is in town and the birdie on my shoulder who is not my friend keeps telling me not to call her because why shock an old friend with all this gut and the same birdie wants me to know that these dudes these days ain't 'bout fucking fat Black bitches and all I wanna know is who the fuck birdie is calling a bitch
34. Why I stay
I stay for myself. Because I am not finished. Sometimes I am not reason enough. I stay for my son. Mostly my son. I stay because I am not a past tense. I am a now. I stay because I am afraid to leave. Because I want a better story for my son. Because there are more stories to tell. Because there are more books to write. More paintings to paint and sell. More sex to have. More hugs to give away. Because my nappy afro is not big enough yet. Because I am in a hotel room in LA and this is no place to die. To leave. To not be. Because my son has not finished his film. Because there is an apartment out there with my name on it. Because my poetry class just started. Because my students have books to write and publish. Because I have weight to lose. Because ain't nobody trying to die fat. Because I have not accused the ex of rape to his face. Yet. Because my license is still suspended. Because. Because. Because. Because all the reasons. Because swallowing the pills did not work. Because I need a pedicure. Because there is no. One. Reason.
35. Ex
That time he started
Doing crack again and
Stole my car and I had
To pick it up from the
Snooty Fox Motel
And he thought I was wrong
For breaking up with him
Because of one mistake
36. My journey through depression
It's 7:00am and I am at home. At the place I am calling home right now. It's temporary. Isn't everything temporary? That's the good thing about people who live with depression, we know it's all temporary. Right now I'm sitting on the couch in the living room. The sun is shining through the blinds reminding me that I am still here. I can see the dining table and the open kitchen. I see the plants and the coffee table and television and rug. There is a sliding glass door to the backyard. To my left there is the living room (the other living room, the one no one goes in) and front door. There is a hallway leading to the restrooms and laundry room and bedrooms. Oh yeah, there is a refrigerator and a pantry in the kitchen filled with good food. I'm in my cousin's house. I have family. I have food and work and friends and talent and some money on my EBT card. The guy at the gas station even said I was beautiful. Heeeyyyy! All this to say that yes, I am blessed. What does that even mean though? Blessed. Is it like lucky? Is it like favored? Because I don't think I'm favored or lucky. I'm certainly not "too blessed to be stressed." I'm like other human beings on the planet. I'm like the animals too. I'm like the butterfly and the lizard and the trees. I'm here, in this incarnation learning and giving what there is to learn and give. And with everything I have I still live with it. The monster in my head. That thing called depression.
Some people call it a flood. I guess it is kind of like drowning. Only kind of. Because the sinking is slower. The going under is almost invisible to others. Some see, but they don't know what they're looking at. They don't know if it's real so sometimes they convince themselves it's not really happening. Or if it is happening, it's not that bad or it will go away or you or I will go away. Whatever. But it will be gone and they can go about their lives and marriages and promotions and cable bills like a great storm, a great drowning, like an incredible sinking didn't happen and take us with it. I don't call it a flood because people live like if it's not Katrina, if it's not New Orleans, if it's not 2005, then it's not that bad. Your thing, my thing is not that bad because it's invisible. Like, so stop bothering the rest of the world with it. I hate that. I do. I hate it when people list how hard they have it dealing with some medical condition and then tell you see, see THIS is bad. THIS is hard. THIS is a bad day. If you can't sit yours next to THIS and compare it then yours is not bad. Like these pills won't go down. Like jumping off a bridge won't kill me. Like I haven't picked one out. Like I don't live with voices telling me how worthless I am double dog daring me to just do it. Like I don't ignore them and put on a happy face to make you smile. Like my blues ain't blue. I don't say your thing ain't a real thing with edges and teeth and a throat. That it ain't that bad. Just because you can't see mine don't tell me my thing ain't a thing with toenails that poke. A thing with sticks and stones. I'm getting mad all over. Anyway, I don't call it a flood ok. I call it a cloud. More like, clouds. They come out of nowhere. They are a summer rain in Georgia. They come stealth as a hungry cat. They are as unapologetic as a good cussin' out. One minute I'm living my life, minding my own black business and the next I can't find the sun. Or feel my feet. Like I'm walking through mud. I'm never surprised though. I know it's coming. It's like having a menstrual cycle, when I had a menstrual cycle. There were those awful days when I would vomit everywhere and the cramps I thought (and wished) would just kill me. The heavy bleeding for about a week. Then just like that, I could wear white pants again. But I knew not to get too comfortable because Mary was coming back. Same here, except not every twenty-eight days. Except no blood or vomit. Except nothing a doctor could put her finger on. Except not something that would go away in my forties, shout out to early menopause.
There are triggers. There are things I know will make the clouds come quicker. I avoid the ones I can but some are impossible to avoid so I deal the best I can. Big triggers for me are jobs where I have to clock in and I have a boss and coworkers standing over me monitoring my every move. I have never been able to be successful in those types of environments. I need breaks that last longer than fifteen minutes. I need more than one lunch. I need to not have to operate a copy machine. I need to wear jumpers and sandals. I have insomnia so I need to not have to be there at eight. I need privacy while I'm dealing with these fucking clouds and all that they bring. The tears I can't control or explain. The need to sit for a minute, or however long it takes. The need for space to just...be, without eyes on me, without customers complaining. Thankfully I have some talent as a writer and painter and I have enough love and patience to be a caregiver. Even living as an artist I have my days when dealing in this world is a hard thing for me. The world I live in has an effect on me and this place is fucked up. Even as a caregiver I have to do it on my terms. I have my own clients who I get through word of mouth. I can't work with agencies for so many reasons. Note to self, write that piece on home health agencies. So work is a trigger so I'm careful about the work I take.
Then there are relationships. There are many kinds of relationships and the ones that matter take work. For me the trick has been finding that person I'm willing to do the work with and that person willing to do the work with me. The work work though. Not trying to fix me and getting mad when the fixes don't work. Not expecting me to be the kind of normal that exists in their heads. About twenty years ago I dated this guy and during our break up conversation we were sitting at our (at his, everything was his and he let me know it) kitchen table and I was telling him that the relationship was unhealthy for me. That, by the way, was the nicest way I have ever broken up with a man. Anyway, he told me that it wasn't that the relationship was unhealthy for me but I was leaving because I was a "runner." Because like, clearly I need a motherfucker mansplaining why I was leaving his toxic ass. After that conversation I did leave. I had given it a go for over a year and I couldn't do it (or him) anymore. To some level he was right though. I do run when it gets unhealthy for me. And I'm proud of that. The other option is to what? Die there pretending to be happy? Fuck that. Deuces. With romantic relationships I just leave. With family I mostly shut down. It takes me a really long time though with family because to me, family is worth it the time. I spend years trying to communicate and change and accept and be nice and the whole fucking nine. At some point though it starts to feel like I'm auditioning for love and acceptance I'm never going to get. Some people will have perceptions about me I can't do anything about. So I stop. I continue to love. But I stop the dance. All that dancing and movement is fodder for the voices in my head that have their own fingers to point at me about how ain't shit I am. You think I need more? You think I should stick around? Running has saved my life as good as God.
Triggers are all around. Relationships, work, family, food. Yes food too because eating healthy food is important for good mental health. Also, McDonald's has a dollar menu and jammin' sweet tea and Whole Foods does not. So there's that. Exercise is important too. But there is also a lot of not exercising because believe me, taking a shower feels impossible when I'm depressed so the energy to walk or jog is like... The biggest trigger, the one I can't avoid, is being while Black. Fucking being Black while anything. Being a mother, American, artist, shopper at Ralph's Market, sitter on a park bench, driver, news watcher, airline passenger, patient in a hospital, name it. All the looks. The eyes watching to see WHEN you fuck up, because buddy, you're GONNA fuck up. Even if they have to make that shit up. Beckys are all around. Beckys send me spiraling. And I'm the one they love to hate. All this bass. This weight. This height. This ring in my nose. This hair all crunchy and graying. This handsome face of mine. All this attitude that say I been done had enough. Please. Think I ain't wo out just living a regular ass day? Add the clouds to that I can barely even breathe.
First time I remember the clouds coming I was in early middle school. We called it junior high back then. I was home and I went in my sister's room and I asked her if she ever got sad for no reason. That was me, trying to reach out. Trying to find words for the clouds. I was a child trying to explain something I still don't have words for. All these years later I still ain't got more than just...clouds. I don't remember my sister's response. She's four years younger than I so I don't think she understood. I don't know if she understands now. It is hard to to tell my family that months go by with me thinking about killing myself every day. That would be hard for me to hear. I don't have the experience with my family that they know how to deal with that side of me. It's just easier for me and them if I come around when I have a happy face to put on. The truth is that it's not easier for me. When I'm down they are the people I want to be around. I want to be able to explain what I'm feeling. I can't though. Not in words that make sense. Not in ways I feel they will understand. I know they love me and they want to see me happy and maybe it's frustrating that there is no easy fix. If there is a fix at all. My official diagnosis is bipolar 1 so in addition to the crippling depression I also have manic episodes. If you thought I was bad at explaining depression wait until you hear me Forest Gump my way through the mania. I have had manic episodes with my family but they didn't know what was going on. I didn't either through some of them. I am most afraid of those episodes. I'll take the depression any day over that. During manic spells I'm loud and I go too far. Too far with everything, with the joke (because sometimes I'm funny as hell during an episode), with the tears, with my body movements, with my words (I say things I can't take back). During these spells I try to be alone. I'm not physically violent but I do cause harm. So when I can, I isolate myself. And then I crash. And then I'm in an even deeper depression. A place darker than the clouds. I don't trust myself around my meds when I'm like that. I don't trust myself to not take all of the pills. I will admit here, because many have stopped reading by now, that I have taken too many pills before. Too many like I don't know how many. Obviously I woke up but like a whole day later. I missed a whole day. This happened when I was living out in Pomona. I stopped taking my meds shortly after that. Haven't been back on them since. Which brings me here, sitting on my cousin's couch fighting through another depression cycle. I don't look like it. I rarely look like it. Shit, I'm Ja Muthafuckin' ha! I stay fly.
I don't know what triggered this bout of depression. I'm going on a couple of months without my meds. I have never successfully gone that long without meds since I've been on them. You're gonna laugh but, I dunno, I thought I had wished or prayed hard enough that the clouds were gone forever. When they didn't come back after a week and then a month and then a couple more weeks I was like, bet! I was walking around here like I cured cancer. Then that feeling came. That sinking feeling that has me relate to other depressed people who call their depression a flood. Then it kept getting darker and I knew. I'm not at a place right now where voices nag me. I'm not feeling suicidal. And let me say here, that me feeling suicidal has never been about me wanting to die. I don't want to die. I just didn't and don't want to live in that kind of pain. I don't want to live with my brain pushing me to harm myself. I don't want to live my life crying uncontrollably. I don't want to feel like America's next Ninga because I took a shower or brushed my teeth. I've never dreamt or expected life to be easy but not like that either. So hear me, I don't want to die. I just want to live differently.
You know, when I think about it, maybe I have been jumping over landmines I just didn't want to see or accept that they were big enough to be dangerous. Tuesday after next I turn fifty years old. I didn't think I would see this birthday. Officially I haven't seen it yet but I didn't think I would get this close. When my son and I were out in Pomona it was a dangerous time for me emotionally. The voices, the thoughts, the clouds, everything. It was hard. I even felt like my own doctor had given up on me. The psychiatrist I was seeing had given me all the pills he could and they just weren't working. Finally he told me that I should have electric shock therapy. Like I'm really going to do that. I stopped going. The medical facility never called back. Maybe they were glad to be rid of me. When I decided to stop taking my meds a part of me thought that I would just...be gone. Then something happened. Somehow I started getting better. Feeling lighter. The house we were renting was sold and we had to move but that wasn't even a blow to me because for the first time in a long time I felt alive and normal and free. We were living in motels paying rent by the week. I was hustling art and poetry and taking care of old people. I don't know how we were making it but we were. We always had money. We always had food. We were always in a safe and clean spot. I had been having trouble paying rent by the month and somehow I was paying by the week. A lot was going on. But the clouds were gone and I wasn't on meds. I fought through clouds and dark thoughts about not making it to my birthday and I'm almost there. Maybe that was a trigger. I was driving a while back and I made a call on my cell and got pulled over. I couldn't afford the ticket and so my license got suspended. That's a current trigger especially now. I'm living in Palmdale and working in Los Angeles. The commute is about an hour and twenty minutes away one way. Then driving around in the city is stressful and cops are everywhere. That's stressful. When Uraeus was younger he lived some time with his dad and I had to pay child support. I was barely making it and fell way behind. I still owe. Yeah, it's my duty and I'm gonna take care of it one day but these days I'm choosing between food and gas and rent and back child support. What you think I'm paying? So when the cops are behind me I don't know if a stop is going to land me with a bigger fine, the car taken or jail. So yep, I'm a little stressed. Thankfully now we are staying with my cousin but I still gotta get a place. It's easier for me to live in L.A. because most of my life and work are there but getting into a place without paperwork that says I make three times the rent is challenging. To say the least. Triggers abound.
I'm gonna make it, y'all. Watch me make it. Making it for me looks like getting into another mental health facility. Back in therapy. If I can avoid staying off meds I will. Maybe there is some natural path for me. If not, I ain't scared of going back on them. Mostly I want to help my son get situated. He had to stop working when we left Pomona and he's looking for a job now. He's super smart and mad funny and the best young man I know. Helping him get straight is a huge goal. That and staying sane. So, my day is passing me by and I'm still on this couch writing through these clouds. They will clear. I know they will. Pray with me. I'm going to have a good day. I am determined to. I hope you have one too.
37. Uraeus
At first glance my son looks like his father
The beautiful deep chocolate skin
His walk
Way he holds his body tight
But later you see I am in there
His eyes dark and almond
His long piano fingers and nailbeds
That curious look on his face
Even when there is no question
He is surely my son
Our son
His son
Whose is he anyway
He is God's son
He belongs to himself
He belongs to the sun
This is his life to mold like clay
Like sand
Like water
What a blessing it has been watching him grow
Into this man before me now
Where will he take that body that grew inside of me
What will he think of the world we are leaving him
I wonder
I wonder
38. For Eric Garner. Again.
we say names / over / again / like our saying will block the flood of our blood falling / again / like our saying will bring them back / again / but what do we have / besides our saying / to remind us / to tell our children / to keep getting up / again / body after another body / again / again / since before any of us were here / still / numb / ice / frozen / no charges filed / again / police not guilty / again / five years later we say his name / we shout it to the gods we know / we breathe for him / we remember his hands / that planted / helped grow / his skin / neck / flesh / we remember that he was flesh / that he was here and mattered / took space on this planet / was our brother / was ours / was us
22. on the road again
it's 2005 / maybe 06 / i am driving alone from los angeles to atlanta / get pulled over by a cop somewhere in oklahoma / follows me a long time / trying to come up with a reason / i guess / i am careful / i follow the rules / he backs off / i change lanes / he comes up fast behind me / says i didn't signal when i switched / story of my life / it is a hot day / i remember / no one knows me in oklahoma / not that i have a cell phone anyway / his voice booms from the speaker / demanding i get out slowly and walk back to his car / this is not how we get tickets at home / but where would i make a complaint / best do what he says / best pray i leave this alive / i stand outside his passenger door / open / k-9 in the backseat / get in / cop says / get in the car / i ask / yes get in / his patience is growing thin / i sit at the edge of the seat / one leg on the ground / close the door / close the door / i ask / i'm really afraid of your dog / i confess / i cautiously close the door / i'm not used to getting into a police car to get a ticket / what did i do anyway / why am i here / why did you follow me so long / alone / alone / black and woman and alone / alone / alone / with a dog / and a cop / and his gun / and his clear eyes and white skin / on a highway / in the heat / come through, somebody / come through / you didn't signal / where are you going / who is expecting you / why are you here / and this ain't no time for a clapback / and my bones still shaking like puppy / he knows i am afraid / he knows i watch the news / he knows we both see / color / and more questions / and questions / about nothing / about l.a. / words about the weather / like this is a date / like i don't know what this is / like he knows who is in control / mother may i / mother may i / i only want to leave / give me my ticket so i can go / go / go away / away / away / and never come back / he let me off with a warning / and we know this is not about a lane change / we know this game of red rover red rover send black girl right over / is about power / about control / about sit until you are dismissed / dismissed / let go / go / away / away / allowed to live / long as i / know
23. i was in the first or second grade / eating in the cafeteria / sitting between two big kids / a boy and a girl / and the boy demanded i scoot over / away from him /like i had cooties / avoiding cooties is a big deal when you are a kid / i scooted / as if on cue the girl told me to scoot back over / so i did / they were big and who was i / i scooted back and forth between them for however long / i didn't cry / but i scooted enough times to learn / i was a girl in the way
24. education
in high school i took a psychology class / and i don't remember what the lesson was this day / but the teacher stood in front of the class / and said to the young ladies / when we go on dates / that we should sit with our legs crossed / and take the shoe of the crossed leg half off and dangle it from our toes / because that always drives men wild
25. K. L.
when i asked him why he packed two condoms when he went away on business trips / and he told me just in case he got seduced / and why was i trippin' because he always came back with two
26. sister friends
about that time i was dating this guy / then we broke up / then the next week i was performing at doboys on crenshaw when that was the late night spot / and the guy walked in with a woman / and sat in the front row / and i went to the car and cried / and my homegirl followed me / and got in the car and listened / then cut me off and said / you are ja muthafuckin ha and you better get yo ass back in there and act like it / and i remembered why we were homegirls / not that i ever forgot / but from time to time / i look in the mirror and go / yeah / i sure am
27. how
i should have known / when you said you loved me / but you didn't love yourself / i should have wondered / how a thirsty man could give away / water
28. king
one time i was at a gas station in long beach / parked at the pump / counting quarters in my change jar / so i could put in more than eight dollars / and the guy in the truck next to me sat there / watching me / not leaving / still not leaving / still / when I finally got out / i was slightly afraid / because what did he want / because why was he there / still / still / he let down his window / said / you got it sis / do you have enough / i didn't want to leave / til i knew you had enough / you need more / i have more if you need / my shoulders fell / smile danced my face / thank you so much / thank you / i have what i need / but thank you for waiting / so patiently for me
29. pistol
when the cop pulled up next to me at the light i looked over at him / next thing i knew / lights flashed behind me / is my tail light out officer / what i do wrong sir / he said i looked at him at the light / looked at you / he said my eye contact made me suspicious / i am a suspicious black woman driving alone at night / my brown eyes looking into his blues / so glad i didn't smile and show my teeth / glad i didn't wave / might have thought i was raising a power fist / a weapon / might have thought i was a terrorist / don't know why i didn't know better / who i think i am / looking at a white man / a cop no less / ain't i got no better sense / ain't i learned nothing from n.w.a. / don't i watch the news / don't i know this body of mine / a threat
30. lift hands
shout out to inglewood / for the forty-three days of living in hotels / motels / never holiday inns / for the thousands of dollars spent / for clean towels / for the lead on a new place / pray saints / shout out to saints / for the books that sold / for the paintings folks bought / for the gigs booked / for the class i teach / for the clients i serve / for waking up at four in the morning in prayer and praise and hustle and worry / for the depression that has not crippled me / the mania that has not convinced me to jump off a bridge / shout out to the meds i haven't taken since june because i swallowed a bunch of pills on some fuck it / shout out to god who let me sleep the whole next day / shout out to family who never ask where i am or if i'm eating / fyi i am eating / shout out to good days / when the hotel fees are paid for the week / when law & order and criminal minds marathons are plenty / shout out / shout out / shout out for the new level up / for this me i did not know myself to be / for this alone that has taught me everything / shout out to my son on this journey with me / for his clear head and heavy hustle / for the lessons he has learned / shout out to the voices in my head who sound like ex lovers who fight with me / on the freeways / late at night / in line at the bank / for the hot showers / the clam chowder soup at the vons on hillcrest and manchester / for that good good drive up atm at wells fargo / shout out / shout out / shout out to the bruno's across the street from mcdonald's / shout out to the french toast special with sausage / shout out goddammit for the high stakes / for knowing that we will sleep inside or outside depending on the sales / shout out for always the sales / for the come through in the middle of the night / shout out for sense enough to give thanks to god / shout out to the gratitude log / for the blog / the journals / the doodles in the margins / my toni morrison books in dietra's garage / shout out to homegirls / to dollar stores / to late night texts / to the journey i wouldn't take nothin' for / to this moment / to the days ahead / shout out for being fly and looking like my shit is together / shout out for together / for fly / for love / for the angels and ancestors who know
31. Spilled milk
This morning I woke up thinking about a time when Uraeus was about four months old and we were going with my family to Las Vegas to celebrate my step father's birthday. I think we were all in my mom's SUV. I didn't know my status as bipolar at that time but looking back I was rapidly cycling between mania and depression. On top of that I was experiencing postpartum depression. Adding more, at that time for work I was babysitting my friend's newborn twins. Her sons were a month older than Uraeus and I was not being paid the rate anyone should be paid to babysit twin newborns. I wasn't even being paid friends and family rate. She was paying me $100 a month and somehow seemed to take pride in that. One time she even said, "I do pay you a whole hundred dollars." It's laughable now, but it wasn't then. Ok, let's add more, my relationship with my son's dad was ending. It was a lot. That's the background, now back to the story.
We were on the way to Vegas and were almost at the hotel. Somehow my milk for Uraeus spilled in my bag and I lost it. Emotionally it sent me EVERYWHERE. I don't remember what I said but I lashed out at my mother and just created an awkward mood for everyone. I was literally crying over spilled milk. When I could get my mother alone I apologized for my outburst but she didn't want to hear it. Not that I blame her. I mean, from her perspective, it was MILK. And there I was acting like my life was over. I didn't know how to explain to anyone what I was going through. I didn't understand it myself.
When Uraeus and I got in the room my sister, who had just had a baby herself, brought me some milk. I remember her handing it to me like, here, dang, it's just milk. And to her, it was just milk, but to me, my life was ending. Or at least I wanted it to be. That's the thing about bipolar brains. EVERYTHING could be a life or death situation. I was dealing with so much and didn't know how I was going to get out of it.
The room Uraeus and I were in had two full beds. One was for us and the other was for my mom and step father. Before Richard, my step father, got in the room, I was standing in front of the window in the hotel. I was just standing there looking out. My mental clouds were very dark. When Richard came in the room I went to the bed and just started crying uncontrollably. I tried to be as quiet as I could but it wasn't a secret. He didn't say anything to me. Not that I remember anyway. When my mother came in the room he told her that I had been crying. I don't remember her saying anything either. Maybe they didn't know what to say. Maybe they were upset. I don't know. I mean here it was Richard's birthday and the family was all together and here I was...acting like that.
I think this memory came up today because yesterday I posted a picture on Instagram of my gas gage in my car. It was on E and the gas light was on. I posted a caption with the picture that said Kinda how I feel. This morning I saw a comment on the photo that said, "Ain't nothing a little cash can't cure." The person who posted the comment is a friend and the comment was posted with all the best intentions. And she is right. She doesn't know that I am living in a hotel and paying rent by the day and tired from working like crazy and selling art and discounting my prices so that I can make my daily money goal. She doesn't know how that yellow gas light almost sent me into tears. And how could she know it? This is not about her. It's about me and where I am. It's about me on one hand feeling so blessed and powerful that I'm even making it and on the other hand feeling SUPER tired and needing a break. When I saw the comment for a quick second I was back in that hotel, crying over milk.
This morning is a different story. My gas is still on E but I'll make it. I'll get to work. I'll get some money. I'll get to where I'm going tonight. I'll sell some paintings. Please God, let me sell some paintings. I'll get some gas. I'll be ok. I will you know. I will be ok.
32. Love. Grandmother. Hands.
I was in like / the 4th or 5th grade / and Pam was a bully / we called her Big Pam / and my grandmother heard she had been pushing me around / and nobody pushes me around / she drove me to school / in her brown and beige station wagon / and walked me up and down the playgrounds / the big playground and the little playground / to find this Pam / to see those hands that push / she walked up to every girl on the playground / is that her / she asked / that her / that one / that one / no / no / no / and then there was Pam coming into the gate / standing right next to my grandmother / eyes big as saucers / I never saw Pam afraid before / is that her / and I was afraid too / is it / is it her / Pam shook her head no / slow as she could / no / no that's not her / Pam left to go play / my grandmother said / I think that was her / and you were just scared to say / tell her she bet not put her hands on you again / how did she know / how could she know / grandmothers just know / I guess / grandmothers just / know
33. What's so. Fear and faith. This mind and body.
Sometimes I am all about that Lizzo life and I'm feeling good as hell and there are other times and sometimes at the same times as the Lizzo times when I am wildly uncomfortable with my body with this flesh that has stretched and fallen and I should be all about that big girl life but then what the fuck are shoulds and who the fuck needs a should anyway and my gait is slow and unsteady way I walk up and down stairs one step at a time and my homegirl is in town and the birdie on my shoulder who is not my friend keeps telling me not to call her because why shock an old friend with all this gut and the same birdie wants me to know that these dudes these days ain't 'bout fucking fat Black bitches and all I wanna know is who the fuck birdie is calling a bitch
34. Why I stay
I stay for myself. Because I am not finished. Sometimes I am not reason enough. I stay for my son. Mostly my son. I stay because I am not a past tense. I am a now. I stay because I am afraid to leave. Because I want a better story for my son. Because there are more stories to tell. Because there are more books to write. More paintings to paint and sell. More sex to have. More hugs to give away. Because my nappy afro is not big enough yet. Because I am in a hotel room in LA and this is no place to die. To leave. To not be. Because my son has not finished his film. Because there is an apartment out there with my name on it. Because my poetry class just started. Because my students have books to write and publish. Because I have weight to lose. Because ain't nobody trying to die fat. Because I have not accused the ex of rape to his face. Yet. Because my license is still suspended. Because. Because. Because. Because all the reasons. Because swallowing the pills did not work. Because I need a pedicure. Because there is no. One. Reason.
35. Ex
That time he started
Doing crack again and
Stole my car and I had
To pick it up from the
Snooty Fox Motel
And he thought I was wrong
For breaking up with him
Because of one mistake
36. My journey through depression
It's 7:00am and I am at home. At the place I am calling home right now. It's temporary. Isn't everything temporary? That's the good thing about people who live with depression, we know it's all temporary. Right now I'm sitting on the couch in the living room. The sun is shining through the blinds reminding me that I am still here. I can see the dining table and the open kitchen. I see the plants and the coffee table and television and rug. There is a sliding glass door to the backyard. To my left there is the living room (the other living room, the one no one goes in) and front door. There is a hallway leading to the restrooms and laundry room and bedrooms. Oh yeah, there is a refrigerator and a pantry in the kitchen filled with good food. I'm in my cousin's house. I have family. I have food and work and friends and talent and some money on my EBT card. The guy at the gas station even said I was beautiful. Heeeyyyy! All this to say that yes, I am blessed. What does that even mean though? Blessed. Is it like lucky? Is it like favored? Because I don't think I'm favored or lucky. I'm certainly not "too blessed to be stressed." I'm like other human beings on the planet. I'm like the animals too. I'm like the butterfly and the lizard and the trees. I'm here, in this incarnation learning and giving what there is to learn and give. And with everything I have I still live with it. The monster in my head. That thing called depression.
Some people call it a flood. I guess it is kind of like drowning. Only kind of. Because the sinking is slower. The going under is almost invisible to others. Some see, but they don't know what they're looking at. They don't know if it's real so sometimes they convince themselves it's not really happening. Or if it is happening, it's not that bad or it will go away or you or I will go away. Whatever. But it will be gone and they can go about their lives and marriages and promotions and cable bills like a great storm, a great drowning, like an incredible sinking didn't happen and take us with it. I don't call it a flood because people live like if it's not Katrina, if it's not New Orleans, if it's not 2005, then it's not that bad. Your thing, my thing is not that bad because it's invisible. Like, so stop bothering the rest of the world with it. I hate that. I do. I hate it when people list how hard they have it dealing with some medical condition and then tell you see, see THIS is bad. THIS is hard. THIS is a bad day. If you can't sit yours next to THIS and compare it then yours is not bad. Like these pills won't go down. Like jumping off a bridge won't kill me. Like I haven't picked one out. Like I don't live with voices telling me how worthless I am double dog daring me to just do it. Like I don't ignore them and put on a happy face to make you smile. Like my blues ain't blue. I don't say your thing ain't a real thing with edges and teeth and a throat. That it ain't that bad. Just because you can't see mine don't tell me my thing ain't a thing with toenails that poke. A thing with sticks and stones. I'm getting mad all over. Anyway, I don't call it a flood ok. I call it a cloud. More like, clouds. They come out of nowhere. They are a summer rain in Georgia. They come stealth as a hungry cat. They are as unapologetic as a good cussin' out. One minute I'm living my life, minding my own black business and the next I can't find the sun. Or feel my feet. Like I'm walking through mud. I'm never surprised though. I know it's coming. It's like having a menstrual cycle, when I had a menstrual cycle. There were those awful days when I would vomit everywhere and the cramps I thought (and wished) would just kill me. The heavy bleeding for about a week. Then just like that, I could wear white pants again. But I knew not to get too comfortable because Mary was coming back. Same here, except not every twenty-eight days. Except no blood or vomit. Except nothing a doctor could put her finger on. Except not something that would go away in my forties, shout out to early menopause.
There are triggers. There are things I know will make the clouds come quicker. I avoid the ones I can but some are impossible to avoid so I deal the best I can. Big triggers for me are jobs where I have to clock in and I have a boss and coworkers standing over me monitoring my every move. I have never been able to be successful in those types of environments. I need breaks that last longer than fifteen minutes. I need more than one lunch. I need to not have to operate a copy machine. I need to wear jumpers and sandals. I have insomnia so I need to not have to be there at eight. I need privacy while I'm dealing with these fucking clouds and all that they bring. The tears I can't control or explain. The need to sit for a minute, or however long it takes. The need for space to just...be, without eyes on me, without customers complaining. Thankfully I have some talent as a writer and painter and I have enough love and patience to be a caregiver. Even living as an artist I have my days when dealing in this world is a hard thing for me. The world I live in has an effect on me and this place is fucked up. Even as a caregiver I have to do it on my terms. I have my own clients who I get through word of mouth. I can't work with agencies for so many reasons. Note to self, write that piece on home health agencies. So work is a trigger so I'm careful about the work I take.
Then there are relationships. There are many kinds of relationships and the ones that matter take work. For me the trick has been finding that person I'm willing to do the work with and that person willing to do the work with me. The work work though. Not trying to fix me and getting mad when the fixes don't work. Not expecting me to be the kind of normal that exists in their heads. About twenty years ago I dated this guy and during our break up conversation we were sitting at our (at his, everything was his and he let me know it) kitchen table and I was telling him that the relationship was unhealthy for me. That, by the way, was the nicest way I have ever broken up with a man. Anyway, he told me that it wasn't that the relationship was unhealthy for me but I was leaving because I was a "runner." Because like, clearly I need a motherfucker mansplaining why I was leaving his toxic ass. After that conversation I did leave. I had given it a go for over a year and I couldn't do it (or him) anymore. To some level he was right though. I do run when it gets unhealthy for me. And I'm proud of that. The other option is to what? Die there pretending to be happy? Fuck that. Deuces. With romantic relationships I just leave. With family I mostly shut down. It takes me a really long time though with family because to me, family is worth it the time. I spend years trying to communicate and change and accept and be nice and the whole fucking nine. At some point though it starts to feel like I'm auditioning for love and acceptance I'm never going to get. Some people will have perceptions about me I can't do anything about. So I stop. I continue to love. But I stop the dance. All that dancing and movement is fodder for the voices in my head that have their own fingers to point at me about how ain't shit I am. You think I need more? You think I should stick around? Running has saved my life as good as God.
Triggers are all around. Relationships, work, family, food. Yes food too because eating healthy food is important for good mental health. Also, McDonald's has a dollar menu and jammin' sweet tea and Whole Foods does not. So there's that. Exercise is important too. But there is also a lot of not exercising because believe me, taking a shower feels impossible when I'm depressed so the energy to walk or jog is like... The biggest trigger, the one I can't avoid, is being while Black. Fucking being Black while anything. Being a mother, American, artist, shopper at Ralph's Market, sitter on a park bench, driver, news watcher, airline passenger, patient in a hospital, name it. All the looks. The eyes watching to see WHEN you fuck up, because buddy, you're GONNA fuck up. Even if they have to make that shit up. Beckys are all around. Beckys send me spiraling. And I'm the one they love to hate. All this bass. This weight. This height. This ring in my nose. This hair all crunchy and graying. This handsome face of mine. All this attitude that say I been done had enough. Please. Think I ain't wo out just living a regular ass day? Add the clouds to that I can barely even breathe.
First time I remember the clouds coming I was in early middle school. We called it junior high back then. I was home and I went in my sister's room and I asked her if she ever got sad for no reason. That was me, trying to reach out. Trying to find words for the clouds. I was a child trying to explain something I still don't have words for. All these years later I still ain't got more than just...clouds. I don't remember my sister's response. She's four years younger than I so I don't think she understood. I don't know if she understands now. It is hard to to tell my family that months go by with me thinking about killing myself every day. That would be hard for me to hear. I don't have the experience with my family that they know how to deal with that side of me. It's just easier for me and them if I come around when I have a happy face to put on. The truth is that it's not easier for me. When I'm down they are the people I want to be around. I want to be able to explain what I'm feeling. I can't though. Not in words that make sense. Not in ways I feel they will understand. I know they love me and they want to see me happy and maybe it's frustrating that there is no easy fix. If there is a fix at all. My official diagnosis is bipolar 1 so in addition to the crippling depression I also have manic episodes. If you thought I was bad at explaining depression wait until you hear me Forest Gump my way through the mania. I have had manic episodes with my family but they didn't know what was going on. I didn't either through some of them. I am most afraid of those episodes. I'll take the depression any day over that. During manic spells I'm loud and I go too far. Too far with everything, with the joke (because sometimes I'm funny as hell during an episode), with the tears, with my body movements, with my words (I say things I can't take back). During these spells I try to be alone. I'm not physically violent but I do cause harm. So when I can, I isolate myself. And then I crash. And then I'm in an even deeper depression. A place darker than the clouds. I don't trust myself around my meds when I'm like that. I don't trust myself to not take all of the pills. I will admit here, because many have stopped reading by now, that I have taken too many pills before. Too many like I don't know how many. Obviously I woke up but like a whole day later. I missed a whole day. This happened when I was living out in Pomona. I stopped taking my meds shortly after that. Haven't been back on them since. Which brings me here, sitting on my cousin's couch fighting through another depression cycle. I don't look like it. I rarely look like it. Shit, I'm Ja Muthafuckin' ha! I stay fly.
I don't know what triggered this bout of depression. I'm going on a couple of months without my meds. I have never successfully gone that long without meds since I've been on them. You're gonna laugh but, I dunno, I thought I had wished or prayed hard enough that the clouds were gone forever. When they didn't come back after a week and then a month and then a couple more weeks I was like, bet! I was walking around here like I cured cancer. Then that feeling came. That sinking feeling that has me relate to other depressed people who call their depression a flood. Then it kept getting darker and I knew. I'm not at a place right now where voices nag me. I'm not feeling suicidal. And let me say here, that me feeling suicidal has never been about me wanting to die. I don't want to die. I just didn't and don't want to live in that kind of pain. I don't want to live with my brain pushing me to harm myself. I don't want to live my life crying uncontrollably. I don't want to feel like America's next Ninga because I took a shower or brushed my teeth. I've never dreamt or expected life to be easy but not like that either. So hear me, I don't want to die. I just want to live differently.
You know, when I think about it, maybe I have been jumping over landmines I just didn't want to see or accept that they were big enough to be dangerous. Tuesday after next I turn fifty years old. I didn't think I would see this birthday. Officially I haven't seen it yet but I didn't think I would get this close. When my son and I were out in Pomona it was a dangerous time for me emotionally. The voices, the thoughts, the clouds, everything. It was hard. I even felt like my own doctor had given up on me. The psychiatrist I was seeing had given me all the pills he could and they just weren't working. Finally he told me that I should have electric shock therapy. Like I'm really going to do that. I stopped going. The medical facility never called back. Maybe they were glad to be rid of me. When I decided to stop taking my meds a part of me thought that I would just...be gone. Then something happened. Somehow I started getting better. Feeling lighter. The house we were renting was sold and we had to move but that wasn't even a blow to me because for the first time in a long time I felt alive and normal and free. We were living in motels paying rent by the week. I was hustling art and poetry and taking care of old people. I don't know how we were making it but we were. We always had money. We always had food. We were always in a safe and clean spot. I had been having trouble paying rent by the month and somehow I was paying by the week. A lot was going on. But the clouds were gone and I wasn't on meds. I fought through clouds and dark thoughts about not making it to my birthday and I'm almost there. Maybe that was a trigger. I was driving a while back and I made a call on my cell and got pulled over. I couldn't afford the ticket and so my license got suspended. That's a current trigger especially now. I'm living in Palmdale and working in Los Angeles. The commute is about an hour and twenty minutes away one way. Then driving around in the city is stressful and cops are everywhere. That's stressful. When Uraeus was younger he lived some time with his dad and I had to pay child support. I was barely making it and fell way behind. I still owe. Yeah, it's my duty and I'm gonna take care of it one day but these days I'm choosing between food and gas and rent and back child support. What you think I'm paying? So when the cops are behind me I don't know if a stop is going to land me with a bigger fine, the car taken or jail. So yep, I'm a little stressed. Thankfully now we are staying with my cousin but I still gotta get a place. It's easier for me to live in L.A. because most of my life and work are there but getting into a place without paperwork that says I make three times the rent is challenging. To say the least. Triggers abound.
I'm gonna make it, y'all. Watch me make it. Making it for me looks like getting into another mental health facility. Back in therapy. If I can avoid staying off meds I will. Maybe there is some natural path for me. If not, I ain't scared of going back on them. Mostly I want to help my son get situated. He had to stop working when we left Pomona and he's looking for a job now. He's super smart and mad funny and the best young man I know. Helping him get straight is a huge goal. That and staying sane. So, my day is passing me by and I'm still on this couch writing through these clouds. They will clear. I know they will. Pray with me. I'm going to have a good day. I am determined to. I hope you have one too.
37. Uraeus
At first glance my son looks like his father
The beautiful deep chocolate skin
His walk
Way he holds his body tight
But later you see I am in there
His eyes dark and almond
His long piano fingers and nailbeds
That curious look on his face
Even when there is no question
He is surely my son
Our son
His son
Whose is he anyway
He is God's son
He belongs to himself
He belongs to the sun
This is his life to mold like clay
Like sand
Like water
What a blessing it has been watching him grow
Into this man before me now
Where will he take that body that grew inside of me
What will he think of the world we are leaving him
I wonder
I wonder
38. For Eric Garner. Again.
we say names / over / again / like our saying will block the flood of our blood falling / again / like our saying will bring them back / again / but what do we have / besides our saying / to remind us / to tell our children / to keep getting up / again / body after another body / again / again / since before any of us were here / still / numb / ice / frozen / no charges filed / again / police not guilty / again / five years later we say his name / we shout it to the gods we know / we breathe for him / we remember his hands / that planted / helped grow / his skin / neck / flesh / we remember that he was flesh / that he was here and mattered / took space on this planet / was our brother / was ours / was us
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