I’d like for you to put some respect on my name.
I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced, but i guess you saw how I wear my pain.
How dare you fix your lips in an attempt to drag me through the dirt?
How do you judge someone for the past or the resilience it took to even share their hurt?
You must be packed in bubble wrap to throw stones in a glass house,
And you must have all the answers if you chose to let someone’s insecurities come oozing out your mouth.
See it’s easy to judge when you’ve never done anything except sweep your emotions under the rug.
I don’t know too many people who aren’t traumatized by drugs,
Bad relationships, assaults, lack of hugs,
Deaths, illness, hell just because.
Life hands out ass whoopin’s daily.
We have no choice but to persevere,
But some of the things we experience almost kept us all from gathering here.
They called us strong when we didn’t feel like it.
We hid our tears and all the times we were too afraid to ask for help.
Hell, there were many days of looking in the mirror without recognizing ourselves,
So give yourself grace.
You survived something the person next to you couldn’t imagine having to go through.
And fuck what the critics say because they don’t slightly even know you.
Respectfully.
No one walking this Earth has the right to judge another on their past or pain,
So next time let them know to put some respect on both our names.

My presence Is a Present
I’d say kiss my ass
But 9/10 times you probably already did
Or at least fantasized about it

Don’t take my love for weakness
Or my heart for granted
because when I hit you
with the access denied
You gone panic

I’m a prize
But I’m not a trophy
I’m a treasure
But I’m not just for your pleasure

You can’t pick me up
and put me down
When you don’t want me

I promise you
I won’t sit around and collect dust
Waiting and debating
Should I stay or should I go

Because the difference
between me and a trophy
Is that I won’t be around
when the dust settles
Because I don’t settle

I’ve wasted too much
Of my time
Trying to be patient
But you can lead a horse
To water
But that doesn’t mean it’s gone drink it

Like what makes you think
You can play with me
I’m more than what you see
dope vibes
And energy
So don’t you dare
Come to me
Past your prime
I’m not sorry to say You’re out of time

You should have been
On your knees
Worshipping me
I’m a Queen

Better yet a Goddess

I surpass the constraints
of the program
I know
who I am
and who I be

So nothing you do
Can phase me
You can’t even
Amaze me

I’m priceless
So my presence
Is a blessing
And you’re ungrateful
I don’t have to be with you
To know you ain’t faithful
I can tell by your distasteful
Inconsistent lukewarm ways

My presence is valuable
And you missed out

Someone pour out
Libation for them

Feel sorry for them
Because I don’t
Dust settles
But I won’t

I will always be worthy
Of love
I don’t need them
To justify it
They knew it too
That’s why they sometimes
Treat me the way they do

I’m the most
Precious thing
You could have ever
Held in your hand
A heart of gold
Love as endless as grains of sand
A pure soul

A smile that’s a work of art
A body only the creator could design

And if you don’t think I’m worthy
That’s perfectly fine

Why am I worthy of the utmost respect?
This can only be answered with a short summary that is very emotional.
I was an unwanted, and unexpected baby, born to a young mother that didn’t really want to be a mother. I’m told that my mother left me in wet diapers, that burned my sensitive baby skin with urine. I’m told that she left me crying and did not meet my emotional needs. This was proven to be the case.
I was bounced around and handed over to anyone that would take care of me and to many that didn’t.
Due to this, I was unable to form bonds, or form healthy connections to others because I didn’t feel safe. That’s the easy and less painful way to put it into words. I never believed that I had a purpose. Until my grandparents decided that enough was enough. I’m told that my grandfather saw something special in me, and that he believed that I could break the family cycle if he were to take custody of me. That my friends was the beginning of the rest of my young life. It wasn’t easy growing up in a very broken environment. I have been in therapy since I was 4. Unfortunately, I had to do some of it with a very detached mother. At that point, one starts to realize that they have to protect themselves. That they have to be strong. Also, that they are worthy of love. It’s not easy at all, in fact, it’s one of the loneliest battles to fight. My best friends became my stuffed animals in my bedroom and each day I would line them up in my room and ask them how we could solve the problems of the day. A bad visit with my mother? Check! I was a bad girl today. Check. I didn’t know which end was up many days because my decisions were made for me in court by a judge. I had to have the visits that would lead me deeper into the spiral of self confusion and insecurities.
I spent most of my young life trying to gain the approval of my mother. Instead, I became her biggest disappointment which she would almost always let me know. Michelle, why can’t you be more like your sister. You’re such a wimp. Such a cry baby, overly sensitive etc. Her words burned into my heart and I couldn’t quite figure out how I was so different from others. Generational Trauma is real. Also known as generational curses. Breaking that cycle is very hard. I fought for years. I fawned, and I tried to be the image of what my mother wanted me to be. I am now 45 years old, and both my grandfather, and my mother have passed away. I lost my mother in 2019 and we were estranged at the time of her passing. When all of the painful memories start to rest their ugly heads it is my Grandma who encourages me now. She supports me and when I cry to her, I tell her I feel as if I am just floating here on earth, it is her words that keep me going. I no longer float along this life because I know that I was born to fly. We all deserve respect. We are all worthy of love. We are all beautiful hearts and our purpose is to try uplift the broken. To love the unloved. To encourage the hopeless and to help others accept who they are with no judgement.
That my friends makes me worthy of the utmost respect. The journey that I have fought through the last 45 years.
*Hopefully this writing makes sense and touches souls.
Trauma has taught this woman that she deserves nothing more than 100% respect. We all deserve the utmost respect.

Shelle Belle

As the sun sets and the centerpiece finds its place, we contemplate: where do we, in our differences, stand? Vibrations of our imperfections magnify, birthing expressions of distrust and anger, like flowers flourishing in the harshest conditions.

Yet, firm we stand, forging a bridge of verbal cues, a path where misunderstandings are not barriers, but stepping stones to compassion. In the face of disagreement, I nurture the tender seedling of respect.

We gather, our words painting ideals that soothe the soul’s unrest. Hands reach out, meanings intertwine, and in the midst of it, we welcome a vibrant spirit of life.

We strike the match of observation, and in our symphony, the merging respect hums a keynote. A song carried on the winds by the mature muse of mothers, giving life to images that often stand as concepts. We act in unity, living out the meanings of these actions, even when they diverge from our own.

In time, I earn your trust. The understanding light in the eyes of my peers, peeking into my perspective of wisdom, nourishes the garden of respect, cultivating gratitude on the vibrant leaves of our shared journey.

Does this resonate with the respect I’ve earned? Through engaging dialogues and shared experiences, respect becomes my emblem, not for agreement, but for understanding. This garden, a testament to seeds sowed with patience and empathy, is my deserved sanctuary. Even when our views diverge, respect bridges the gap, a testament to the power of understanding over agreement.

It was 2010 and Shakira was singing “La Torutura” at the Grammys or the VMA’S. I was 12 years old. Sobbing because I knew I would never look like her. No one would ever want me the way they wanted Shakira. No one would ever be blown away by my still non-existent hips. I was doomed to a life of ugly mediocracy and I knew it.
2007 I was told I had gained too much weight that summer by the one boy I had been harboring a crush on for years. He was blonde and blue eyed in a sea of brown people. I thought he looked like an angel. He let me know he thought I looked like a whale.
2006 the boys would bully me and ask why would I even wear a training bra. It was all bra and no boobs.
2005 someone made fun of my hairy arms. Made some joke about using the hair on my arms to climb up a mountain. Maybe like Velcro? I don’t remember anymore.
2003 In the cafeteria sitting with all my classmates as they made jokes about some girl who happened to have my name who was so ugly and so annoying. I remember one girl looking at me and loudly whispering about this repugnant girl, smiling at me, laughing when she told me it was for sure not about me. Everyone else at the table laughed right after.
I remember walking home with my mom from school crying. I remember her asking me why I didn’t want to go back. Because I was ugly. And everyone knew it. How could I go back?
2023 and I am on the eve of my thirtieth birthday. I no longer weigh myself. I was shopping for a wedding dress and I realized taking pictures in the dresses I liked the most was a horrible idea. I began to pick at every little thing. Convinced myself I look like a linebacker. I tell myself I am beautiful on these days. I tell myself to be softer and kinder. But the voice in my head lingers. It sounds just like those kids in high school and middle school and elementary school. It has gotten significantly quieter as the years pass. And for that I am grateful. Maybe there is a silver lining. I marvel at my body. Taking so many years of abuse from the very person who carries it every day. Only God and every other woman understands how brutal we can be to ourselves. I have torn myself apart a million times. And maybe it will take the rest of my life to make up for the lies I let myself believe but I know with certainty that if it takes my whole life at least my whole life will become a journey of self-love and acceptance.
But oh dear body, I promise you that I love you. You are resilient. You are strong. Your skin is soft and caramel brown at the right time of the year. Your hair is so black it shines blue. Your eyes twinkle and not just when you’re about to cry. Your face is round like the moon. Your lips full, and with so many beautiful things to say. And when you’re old and gray and your skin is translucent with age I will love you even more. For you carried me through life. And for that I will always be grateful.

Wishes of world peace and overwhelming compassion
Get drowned out by social media trends and fashion
Big dreams of empathy and understanding
Destroyed by attitudes that are entitled and demanding
Thoughts of self-love and confidence rising from within
Then the judgments and rude comments start coming in

When you’re satisfied with yourself and your mind
You recognize what matters is being warm-hearted and kind
When you do what brings you that childlike happiness
The negativity around you begins to digress
Your mindset and actions make up your universe
When you focus on yourself, you break the curse

Filling your own cup first may sound selfish
But the energy you give to yourself allows you to be selfless
As you acknowledge and release your internal judgements
It is easier to make connections and commitments
When we can all connect and open our hearts to one another
This is when we can heal and learn to self-discover

Human beings are meant to change and evolve
There will always be obstacles and problems to solve
The more you take care of your mind and soul
The resilience will build, and you’ll enter a state of flow
In this beautiful world, the only constant is change
As you step into the magic of love, what happens next is strange

You start to see others with love and empathy
You understand why someone sees things differently
Although you may have different opinions and lives
Similarities and experiences allow the connection to thrive
When we all connect with a common goal for good
The universe will make sure it all happens as it should

This world desires to be full of love and connection
The world does not want us to strive for perfection
The world needs people who are vulnerable and open
The world needs less of resentment and hearts that are broken
One of the greatest things we can do is spread our light
So, to be the change I wish to see, I am committed to spreading mine

How am I changing the world?
The real question is what makes you think
Me of all people… One being.
Has the power to do so?
I ain’t no Jesus.
I can’t be a savior.
I can’t change the world.
But I can elevate my mind
and change my behavior.

The world is cruel.
We all just wear our
rose colored glasses.
And say we go to the
“beat of our own drum”
yet we still comment, like, follow and subscribe
in masses.
we still have to be hip with the latest trend
and we so easily give into the fleshly pleasures and desires
of sin.

The world is a conundrum of infinite paradoxes
and flexible morals that produce infinite quarrels.
It’s always, “Be Left or Right”, no in between.
Like thinking for oneself is a forgotten
right and a lost thing.

I can try to change the world.
But I always heard that the
“nail that sticks out will be hammered down”
Honestly who really wants the world to change?
I have been told it is as pointless
as chasing the wind and fighting the rain.
Many can assemble and try to fight for what’s right.
But i was told it is like being stranded in the middle of the ocean
with no land in sight;
You Scream for help as pools or sharks
surround you ready to take a bite.
Who said the world needs changing?
How else would we be entertained?
Who would we be able to blame when we don’t get it right?
Who’s fault will it be?

I know you think I am a cynic.
A Debby Downer, Negative Nancy, or Boo-Hoo Betty.
Or at least someone who is pessimistic and petty.
But I just wanted to keep it real.
This is the world we are talking about.

I am a black woman.
My life is assigned different cheap thrills.
If we are popping pills,
Would you choose red or blue?
To see or not to see…
That’s really the question.
It comes with answers that are the same yet different.

Everyone has a different experience.
Their stories of different yet similar themes and plots.
It is all about perspective.
Does the world really need to change?
Can I be perceptive and state my objective?
The world constantly changes whether
I will it or not.
The best thing I can do is change my
Behavior, think pure thoughts, and stay in my lane.

Because somewhere in the world
The poor will always be poor.
The sick will always be sick.

Someone will always be mourning the dead.
The streets will still run red with the blood of
innocent and the guilty.
Gun shots will still fly
and injustice with be one of the many
causes of why people die.
Realistically speaking
Every effort would be dross
because there will always be
the impending doom of chaos.

But I guess I can still try.

No one person
Man, Woman, Boy or Girl
can change the world.
But I can ignite my light.
I can shine bright
through the darkness.
be the beckon of light
that guides the lost home.
I can make an impact.

I can be the match
and light the wick
for the candles of change.
or i can be the kerosene
to keep the light going.
When the cold of the world is
extra mean.
I can keep you warm.
Nurse your wounds
if you should ever get harmed.

My mom gifted me a frame.
with a quote that said.
” Be the change you want to see in the world!”
To this day it still sits on the side of my bed.

I can’t change the world.
But I can choose to love and not to hate.
Everyone deserves respect.
That’s no debate.
I can live righteous
help strangers
and if i have the resources
deliver people out of
Danger.
I can be kind
and choose to not allow the world
to shut me up or make me blind.
I can teach the peace that comes in life
when you abandon sorrow, worry, and anger.
I can choose to love unconditionally.

Start a new trend.
Screaming on the streets
“Let love in!”
Because Love has already won
You just have to knock on the door of victory.
I ain’t no Harold Melvin
But i know the world won’t
get any better. If we let it be.
I can’t change the world.
But I can emulate what I hope it to be.
Because I know I am not going to
change the entire world
but I do know that a change can start with me.

Used and abused, but I still love you.
Tattered and torn, but still going strong.
Beaten and whipped, but still a little human.
Im sorry didn’t pay attention to you and your will to keep on. sorry I didn’t take better care of you
Now age sets in , paper mache skin wrapped around brittle bones, like a flag to a pole with out the glory.
No more curves no more flow
Sinking into the earth where I belong
Where I was made, where I feel safe