It’s been hard,
such is true and certainly
nothing new.
Through
it all, we get complimented
for being strong, resilient
fighting the struggle
and remaining resistant
As a “Strong Black Woman”
who’s had enough of it
Well, I love you
for your ferocious grip
on peace and play
Your insistence on
Loving the tiniest things
of the day like
breakfast outside with
S’mores and a chance to
cosplay, everything whimsical
Mermaids and mushroom
circles. Rest. Feast. Taking
time to cook, and eat
For fighting to keep
the inner child alive, intentional
Happy and contentment
that strives to seek out
the pleasures
Money can’t buy
A joy well nourished and kempt
cannot be made to die.
I love your artistic
spirit and inquisitive mind,
Your thirst for knowledge
and insatiable curiosity
Determined to live and witness
so much of what you studied
and turn concepts into reality
Your ability to make lush
pieces out of simple moments
and resistance to simpleness
Shameless cringe,
proudly extravagant
(even though you
need to overthink less)
Realism and universal
consideration
self acceptance
And allowing yourself to love,
be loved, believe in better
and shed bitterness
Casting a thorough, positive attentiveness
on the people around you.
Keep growing
Keep doing
Keep learning
Keep living
And I’ll reinvent
my thank you

was my resolution for this year,
at least the most public-facing
awkward disheartening and uninspiring
response, painfully clipped for the
question that I dreaded
and hoped to avoid.
Giving glitz to my hopefully mundane Monday
sitting in my dad’s living room
for the only holiday we promised to him year after year
secretly too excited for the celebratory sips…
and every one in-between
Listening to his fiancée excitedly answer
this question for herself with pristine palatable promise
teaching her graduate classes staying true to herself
and making measurable progress
I…was desperately shying away from this year.
Cowering in the reality of all the
time that had passed. Running from the
truth that now another graduating class
could toast its glass
and the word “just” had to retire in a tired slink
before I scramble to explain the limbo
of “What’s going on with me?”
Lagging, lacking, looking
I was supposed to, so supposedly set up for
so much, so many saw and swore I’d soar
like the bubbles in my drink
Now nothing.
While I dared not utter it
and draw attention to my unimpressive flailing
My true hope for this year, was for an end to the waiting
To begin my life and actual Post-Grad Living and
wake up excited instead of no more than
at peace with how I’m living,
with kind of valid work connected
somewhat to what I enjoy doing
To be able to picture the future. Being able to see something
Sometimes it feels like it symbolizes no
longer existing
But this year I will walk away certified
learn the law of language and the art of icing
and placate the inner child
who sought peace these last few months
In the most mundane of things,
an opportunity to dress in costume,
a sip of boba tea, the chorus of a musical piece
My goal for this year is to see the other end
to thrive, reminisce on the strife and how impatient
I was for a change in my life
chuckle lightly about my dramatic theatrics
And relish in the fact that after all,
I survived