17-21

17/30
Thank You Ms Shange

First time I read it
I thought
How did this lady get in my head
Hijack my feelings and put it in a play
26 years before I entered this earth
When I experienced "for colored girls who have considered suicide when the rainbow is enuf"
My spirit danced a la lady in yellow
I felt initiated into a secret society of fly black ladies
I felt...vindicated
Like everything I've gone through in my short life made sense
Why cry over heartache
When you can take away someones cop out sorry and turn it anthem
Someone may almost walk off wid alla your stuff
Devastated you may think there is no coming back
Like tragedy is a black woman heirloom
And perhaps it is
But there will always be sisters who understand the song and dance
Loving with no assistance
More than poem
Encountering this work is a gift
Reminds you black girl magic is no new trend
That while we have not yet found solutions to metaphysical dilemmas of black womanhood
We possess the same bad ass spirit of these colorful heroines
Self care will always be revolutionary and imperative
as I fight for my place on the rainbow
I will be sure to sing my own songs
Create from a place of authenticity
Birth mantra into the world for the next crop of magical black girls
And handle myself with the warmth, love, and fierceness the god in me deserves

18/30

"Grandma's house is not a what?"
Question dripping with statement
We all knew the answer
Responses engraved in our throats for as long as I can remember
This was normal call and response whenever a grandchild became too rowdy
My grandparents' residence was never playground
But it was source of adventure
Housed my favorite library
Many days I was not disruption because I was self exiled to the kitchen table
Poring through encyclopedias and poetry books
Knowledge just felt sweeter here
Museum of relatives close and unfamiliar
Never shortage of photographs to peek at
Never a story I tired of listening to as aunties recalled my mother as a me
The soundtrack: laughter and 92.5
Every gathering boiled down to storytelling and dance
My family knew how to entertain until the motivation passed
Traditions inevitably followed
Grandma's house is a stranger now
It looks the same from the outside as you drive by slowly
But you know your eyes are liars
The soul exited a while ago
It ceased to be the nest Jerry and Lois built
Their hatchlings have flown away
Making the country their playground
Grandma's house is not one

19/30

Have always been heavy handed
Laughed hard
Talked entirely too loud
Experienced outside the lines

I do not lack ideas or imagination
Capable of comprehending logic
It just don't always matter
Because when I'm hooked
In something or someone
When I allow myself to believe
It's real

Tears are the overflow of emotion the body doesn't know how to handle
They do not always convey sadness
Often times liquid leaves eyes against my will
To express frustration

My middle name is currently synonymous with a fixer
Who is way too good at handling everything that is not her personal life
And life imitates art a little too closely
with my compulsion to help others repair themselves
as if God grants extra credit that substitutes for lack of personal growth

Empath
At times I have desire to numb
Or self destruct
Breakdowns take place
Make way for newness
Births motivation to stay present
Create
Think
Feel

20/30

What becomes of the child who never had an audience?
Someone to flood them with necessities
Like support and love
We lose sympathy
When they become drought of a young woman
Indiscriminately seeking moisture
From any source
God bless her for her self sufficiency
But nobody but nobody makes it alone
What becomes of the unremembered child?
Whose social skills are lacking
Patience isn't plentiful for young adults with attitudes
Mangled roots for veins
And rabbit like heart that becomes startled when people get too close
It's easy to misinterpret
Become flustered when they throw away your earnest intentions
Defensive
They observe everything
Quick to point out discrepancies in facial expressions
Tone
Will challenge your desire to support them
Do you really care?

I am invested in what happens next
But feel uneasy in knowing my support alone won't be enough
Drops in a vase that is extremely deep
At times I feel it makes no difference
But they keep showing up
And making steps that look like growth to the hopeful eye
I know that I lack the key to the door marked self love
But I can help her look
Cheer one way or another
Remind her that she is not forgotten

21/30

"If you lived honestly, your life would heal itself"

Perhaps I'm not ready for full restoration
to cut through layers of scar tissue
that have mended itself
-albeit improperly
truth work hurts
involves rehashing old stories for the sake of clarity
maybe I am just not ready to be clear
murky gets to be familiar
home like even
you'd be surprised how muscle memory comes in handy
after a while you don't even feel the egg shells
You don't even recognize how your lips have become perfect barricade
No boat rocking information escapes
No truth serum is allowed entrance
It's possible this is not healthy
Living in a self constructed prison of convenience
But the alternative...
That shit is life changing

We're almost at the end of the challenge. It's about to get REAL.

11-16

11/30

Morning comes
Without fail
After the worst of nights
Sun has consistently been there to greet
Remind
Grant chances
I have not always welcomed this
At times I have petitioned for opposite
I have pressed cheek to earth willing myself to come undone
Operating in fear that I could not come back from blunder
I know what it is like to desire no more mornings
consider returning to the clay I am made of
I have spent many sorrowful evenings convincing my spirit that good things bloom from unfinished remains
Crying in an octave only ancestors could hear- oh how I longed to join them
But but by powers beyond my control
I have stayed around to see mornings
Perspective did not morph overnight
But dawn offered clarity
Brought me others that dread the sun
And gave me venue to talk freely
Share story
Of nighttime worries
You see mornings gave me opportunity
To find purpose
To discover me
To fight for those who dread new days

12/30
Migraine, migraine
Please go away
I have shit to do
And lives to change

13/30
Dream 
Beyond the walls you have built for yourself
It is terrifying 
Having to deconstruct how freely you issue "I can't"
When ability has nothing to do with it
When you truly stand face to mirror and look closely
You'll see canceling on your potential saved you nothing
Fear has been frienemy that you just can't kick out your life
Wasting growth building opportunities
Because you had no expertise
You have always been one to encourage others
Cheer for you
Realize the dialogue that exists in your brain
Sets stage for all that happens around it
The uneasiness in your belly may always be there
But that has nothing to do with your feet
Walk when you find yourself uncomfortable
Build up your tolerance to the anxiety
Anything you hunger for will cause your nerves to tingle
Take it as message that you are doing something right
Keep going
Fight off the monsters under your bed that encourage paralysis
Use or lose
Your gifts were not given for you to cower

14/30
I like quotes
Inspirational sayings are my coping skill 
Words strung together for the purpose of uplifting
Fleeting boosts to my mood
There is no way I can remember every proverb I screen cap
But knowing that someone in the world felt enough like me to create a graphic warms my heart
Words are transformative that way

15/30
I have spent many hours daydreaming about alternate arcs
Altering characters
Changing settings
Introducing plot twists
I have done my fair share of internal storytelling
None of it ever made it to paper
My stories never became reality
Not because of feasibility
But because breaking free means taking action
That I have not been willing to perform
You see thinking of a dream is easy
Having a strong desire on your heart doesn't require much effort
But that follow through has been missing
Carrying out my contemplations involve saying them out loud
Allowing the magic to slip between my fingers
The promise will now be public
Available for general scrutiny
Terrifying to know that there will be potential witnesses to your failure
Better to stand still then to trip on the world’s stage
Dorothy without the sidekicks and soundtrack
I have been searching for change when I’ve never lacked the ability
To create change
In my settings
introduce new characters
Write my own twists
Someone once told me that every emotion ties back to one of two things
love or fear
I have decided to love myself
Fear has no place in my story

16/30
11:11
Let’s make a wish
Leave this up to chance
Let’s believe in make believe again
Memorize this moment we will never see again
Perhaps fate will be kind to us
Take pity on souls who still believe in magic
And honor our request

6-10

This was a weird time. I had a lot of health challenges that week and almost quit. But I'm still here! :)

6/30
It’s not that I don’t care
Not that I don’t see, and hear, and experience these tragedies
It’s just that her name
gets caught in my throat 
as I try to sound it out my eyes water
new casualties
old game
new spins
same topic
investing myself in each story
adds to my already chronic PTSD
saying her name
feels like choking
and no one is offering assistance
just standing
scolding you for eating too fast
Being black in America
is knowing how the movie ends but praying that your memory fails you
some days I pray the whole Black experience is just a nightmare
and I’ll wake up and live in a land
where I’m not afraid to reproduce
where red and blue lights mean protection
where I don’t have to chant,hashtag, and write think pieces on the validity of my existence
because it’s common knowledge that black lives fucking matter
but then as I click my heels and pray to return to a home where I am not a target
I remember
this reality
where babies are not safe in their own bedrooms
Classrooms are battlegrounds
Where suspicious children garner disdain not sympathy
I know nothing but good fortune has kept my loved ones from hash tag infamy
But the right to life should not be a lottery
I do not want the golden ticket
While others are subjected to the horror of not being a winner
I simply want to breathe

7/30

3 questions from the emergency room (Shut Up Kelsey)

What if this is something they will not be able to explain?
What if my struggling is undervalued because they think black people don't feel pain?
What if Beyonce drops her new album and I can't reactivate my Tidal membership because I'm in a coma?

8/30

Awkward makes me awkward
I am a pauser
Delayer
I put uncomfortable moments away on the shelf
A problem for future Kelsey
I avoid opening messages that have read receipts
They pile up
I think most are on to me
I put off to never what could be done tomorrow
The future is a magical place where I am equipped with skills that current Kelsey
Does not posess
I assume that in the tomorrows I have been gifted with a sense of urgency, know how and courage
But I can not fathom channeling those characteristics now
Procrastination is more than habit
It is a warm blanket on a cold winter day
I know my body will eventually encounter frigid reality
But until then I choose to luxuriate in temporary bliss
I will curse my stalling eventually
But that once again
Is a problem for future me

9/30

I am in recovery
I am in the process of discovering who i really am when in touch with my truth
I am attempting to recover what has been lost
And all that I have given away
I am no longer covering my skeletons out of embarrassment
The worst thing someone can do is circulate
or exit my life

10/30

For girls whose bodies have been communion
for those who did not deserve to sit at their table
You asked with every offering
For someone to take and make whole
Yet they break you
You have been ravaged
And they have gotten full
Stepped away
From the table
From you
You emulated savior for boys that needed rescue
But you are not beyond deliverance
You sought attention
They brought you lust
Be more specific, love
But do not punish your past
It has brought you to this moment

1-5 (National Poetry Month)

I just needed a place to access all my pieces in the event Facebook decides to do something odd...

1/30

Self care
Does not mean perfection
Will not always be consistent
You are constantly evolving and growing
As is your relationship with her
You may not always be the kindest
Practice by saying sorry
Make habits of gentleness
Correct creeping thoughts that insinuate your humanity makes you inadequate
Speak your dreams until they start to sound more reality than fairytale
Remind self that she is a monument-
commemoration to all that attempted to destroy her and failed
That in this very moment she is urban legend fears spoke of in half bated breath
they never believed that a self actualized version of you could exist
Grant love and patience as if you were the patient
The child you feverishly protect
Give her benefit of doubt and chances
Room to grow into her tomorrow with minimum judgment
Find peace in knowing you will never be
Everything at once
But you will always be enough
Stumble
Repeat.

2/30

Dear future child

You are far far away from existing
But I've thought a lot about our relationship
I am Bill and Renee's daughter
So there are some things I'm pretty sure I will subconsciously carry on
For example
Your entire government name will probably be the soundtrack to every mistake you are caught in
But your middle name will be precious music that will remind you you will always be treasured
I will repeat myself
Quite often
Talk with my hands
But there are some traditions I hope do not  make it to next generation
It is my intention that you never have to carry mommy's baggage in your backpack
or experience the pain of loving parents who love you but don't know how to love you the way that you need to be loved 
I wish to raise you to be free
Unburdened by expectations to live up to someone else's version of respectable
I aspire
To birth a human who is not blackbird chained
I pray that your mother stays woke
Doesn't fall prey to the lie that children are innocent 
Seen/not heard 
Seeing and hearing but not retaining
The fallacy that their memories won't kick in until older
That their sponge hearts will not absorb the pain of their young shock
I want to stay informed in my care of you before trauma 
Teach you to not swallow your emotions to make me feel better
Only to purge your heart on a stage one day for closure
I intend to hand down love, my eyes. my huge heart
If you ever feel that I am pushing you to try on insecurities that are not your size
Creating battles that you are not owner of
I ask that you correct me
I hope that I have the courage to listen

3/30 

I'm not 100% sure what self love looks like
But I'm sure that it involves leaving his number alone
Remembering it's much better to long for the past 
Than relive it foolishly
Remember the memories connected with it-sure
But when old habits attempt was resurface
Throw that thing as far as you can
They make insurance for phones

4/30

I was never glass shard forgotten on floor 
Lightning bolt freak accident
Unintended reply all
Do not make me out to be mistake
When you know I was firefly
A shred of nostalgia
Summoning memories of pre-jagged you
Reminding you of joy
But second chances don't quite have the same stick
She is still there
99 cent residue
Your mouth never told me
But the idea of us was terrifying
It was clear in your anecdotes
Negative preoccupation is still obsession
I found myself aching to be altered
Reconfigure my heart in such a way that she no longer mattered
Auditioning for a role in your life that was already reserved
But my experience is not crap because one director is committed to typecasting
I used to ask myself
When will I be good enough?
Question turned statement
When I remember I am not a product that needs to be proven
An individual not seconds
A firefly that is meant to be free

5/30

B raver than ever, some days
I am not my diagnosis but can't help but feel protective
P ray silently when mental illness and myself are associated for first time
O verreact in my head; fear no one taking me seriously
L ove myself anyway
A ccept that ignorance will be present regardless if I add myself to the number
R emember stigma is broken with stories and honesty

First Draft Blues

So today is April 17th. 17 days into National Poetry Writing Month. I, Kelsey had the amazing idea (peep the sarcasm) to attempt the poetry challenge I have seen so many poets I admire do in the past. I also decided to coordinate a program wide poetry challenge for my job. I'm so ambitious prior to challenges.

To say that this month has been a struggle for me is an understatement. Dealing with work related stress, physical ailments, strained relationships AND maintaining my sanity has been very time consuming. 

But I'm still here! *praise break* We are more than halfway through the challenge and I'm still writing. I have fallen behind a few times but I have always pushed myself to catch up. My colleague, (who I challenged to participate and has been kicking my butt as far as consistency goes) told me something I have always known about myself: you over think too much. 

Which is so true! I have held off on some big concepts because I've gotten in my head. I will sit with a note in my drafts forever and a day because I'm nervous. But what has that gotten me? 3 years without a new piece prior to starting my new job in August. I was paralyzed in my fear of not having a slam worthy piece overnight. Ridiculous right?

 One thing that has become my mantra when I write is You can never get to the final draft if you don't put it out there first. I'm a notorious editor, there is no poem that I currently perform that is exactly like the first rendition. I think it's a skill of mine. I don't get too content with my work and I'm always looking over it with a fine tooth comb. But one thing that goes without saying is there's nothing to review if I don't put it out there! Common sense isn't always common though.

For the rest of the month I will be pushing myself to take it easy and be kind to my first draft!

Dear Kelse,

Still have to remind myself of this "lesson" every now and then

Letter to a little brown girl with skin the color somewhere in between toffee and coffee but not quite chocolate

Your soul is more beautiful than any video girls make up. Make up your mind with that resolution now and your life will be a lot easier come eighth grade. Don’t let the under and over development of your body cause you to lose your faith. You are more than your earthly shell and deserve far more than any boy calling you sexy babe so wait steadfastly for the man who will rack his brain trying to find a word to describe the beautiful music your soul makes when its praising its creator because that’s what attracts him to you.

Your imagination is unmatched

Curiosity - invaluable

And your heart is larger than the big hopes you had for humanity that you planned to make reality
Despite what your first grade teacher said

PLEASE don’t let your precious spirit start to wither up and self destruct at the age of five along with your parents marriage

HOLD ON to the tenets that you learned in bible school. Your faith was undeniable then. Sunday was your favorite occasion and you hugged Jesus every night after you said your prayers. Don’t let that falter just because time altered the way things used to be.

Remember that change is good for your soul. It keeps you fresh and on your toes. Learn to embrace it and face the music like a champ. Let God’s love forever be on the tip of your tongue so that every naysayer you come in contact with never be able to claim they never heard the word.

Embrace individuality, don’t let it take over your life so much what people think. Rebel but not against the wrong things. Righteousness is always the right choice.

Cherish your siblings. Though three out of four you don’t know very well they are still a blessing. because they have a firsthand understanding of the crap you go through. None of you can control which way your blood flows but it’s there and not changing so get used to it. Who knows, maybe you’ll discover some beautiful secrets on the way.

And please know God don’t make no junk but there are people out there who peddle it harder than men on Imperial tactlessly selling bootlegs. I warn you that everything that glitters aint gold and everything that sounds deep don’t got soul. Demons often don’t announce themselves loudly rather they leave subtle clues that can only be deciphered when you let God through. Make note of how it feels to have Him whispering to your spirit and be sure to always open yourself up to correction when you hear it.

Your stubbornness and hatred of injustice will come in handy one day. Don’t sell out to the dollar because it’s the thing to do. When you stay in God’s will, the blessings will follow you.

Smile. Often and hard. Not just in front of the camera. Real life deserves the opportunity to embrace the love that your upturned lips exude so don’t be stingy.

Friends. That is one topic that will deplete your tear ducts, add to your insomnia, and make you generally hate your big hearted nature. But at the end of the day, some will come along who make all the hell you go through a little worthwhile.

If you haven’t already figured it out. You like to talk. ALOT. That hasn’t changed. Your words are precious jewels. They’re not meant for everybody. Know when to spread the wealth and when to save them for later. It will save you a lot of drama.

In your lifetime you will come across many obstacles that challenge you to your core. People who hide venom behind their smile. Some carry their daggers in plain sight, others exhibit cowardice. I would say don’t stress over these situations but I know you will. Just make sure you learn something from the ignorance that makes you better.

Life is hard but in the end it is the most beautiful journey you could ever take and only you can live it.

I don’t have all the answers

Nor have I asked all the questions

But I have deduced a few things

And I wanted to hypocritically let you in on the wisdom that I know but don’t always apply.

Maybe if I give myself a head start I can correct some of the blemishes of transition.

But then again life can’t be photoshopped.

Or pre-rehearsed

The ignorance we are equipped with is a prerequisite for the lessons we have to learn

and dealing with the blemishes of life is what make the great moments shine so bright in our memory.

With that being said

Please disregard this letter

You’ll figure it all out soon enough

And will be glad I didn’t spoil the surprise

Sincerely,
Kelsey

Ghost Girl

I’ve heard it said that it never rains in southern California

But clearly

Tony Toni Toné never visited 57th street on the right day

Because if they had..

They would know that the rain was frequent and heavy

Gushing from the tear ducts of a ghost girl I used to know who never felt worthy

She dreams of a way out

But always wakes up to nightmares

And it’s not fair

That we live in a world

Where little girls are

Cast into dreadful circumstances

Preconditioning them for a life of sin

Before they even had a chance

It just doesn’t seem right

That we live two vastly different lives

And while I’m proud of my accomplishments

I can’t turn a blind eye to the fact that this sister

MY sister

Didn’t start on an even playing field

That three digit address she resided in wasn’t a home to her

If the walls were one to gossip they’d tell you the misconduct that goes on between them

Grandfathers playing games that borderlined impropriety with unassuming granddaughters

Who had no one to confide in because

Daddy wasn’t there

And Mama didn’t much care one way or another

Too busy searching in vain for a brotha

Instead for ghost girl she made little brothers

And sisters

Some she kept

Some she aborted with money she extorted from her misters

And the schooling she received violated her eighth amendment rights

Because being publicly called stupid by a first grade teacher can scar a child for life

And I’m sure that that can be classified as cruel and usual

And so can the endless playground teasing that followed her all the way up to high school

Where the taunts became more subtle yet increasingly hurtful at the same time

Mistreated all her life

Raped of her innocence

Beaten of her kindness

She suffered silently in abuse

So much anguish so little time

Brainwashed to think her sole purpose in life was misuse

She was never the one to wear her heart on her sleeve

Instead she kept it tucked away in the back pocket of her favorite jeans

Casually molesting it every so often to make sure it was still there

But keeping it close by for easy access to give it away to the first person who acted like they cared

To anyone who would make her for one second feel relevant to life

See she wasn’t aware

That her heart was her was the wellspring of life

Her most valuable possession

And should be guarded with all her might

All she knew was that by giving it away the chances of her receiving love spiked

But she never got what she craved

Never was fully satisfied

Because she viewed herself as broken

Damaged goods

Unwhole as a individual

So she offered up her holes as compensation

Hoping that filling the empty spaces in her body with male appendages

Would somehow close the gap in her heart

Deprived of affection as a child

And adolescence didn’t do her much better

She had no real basis to go off of

She subscribed to the big 3: movies, radio and TV

Thought the media had all the answers

If only she could adapt her one of a kind life to their one size fits all plan

Then she’d be all right

Came to the conclusion that this love thing was just what she needed in her life

And made it her mission to find the faceless man who could somehow heal her pain

Figured that even Disney princess had to kiss a few frogs so

What’s a little rain?

Every now and then

But see she underexaggerated the circumstances

Never once considered that her romances

Had an adverse effect on her psyche

Her whole life she heard sex was supposed to make you feel better

But why then instead of tears of ecstasy did drops of pain stain her face

She didn’t know the answer and didn’t have the patience to wait

She continued to search for a band aid in flesh form

Erroneously thinking that fucking and sucking could make this hurt go away

But the more and more she did that h

The more she found it was there to stay

Still she was too stuck in her ways to make a change

You see that required her to take interest in where her life was headed

And she had checked out a long time ago

She was vicariously existing

Thriving off of the inconstant pseudo affection

Which correlated with the time-span of some random dude’s erection

She lived life on the edge

Easier to just not give a damn rather than run the risk of failure

See her moral compass stopped ticking a long time ago

Started issuing IOUs because her soul was out of order

And it didn’t look like it was getting fixed anytime soon

Meanwhile her life is just one big monsoon

Raindrop after raindrop

Roll from her eyelids

Each one representing her insecurities

Yet in her pity party she finds security

Comfort

Her low standards

Help her to never be disappointed

I watch this tragedy from afar

Knowing that it doesn’t have to be this way

I wish that she would still talk to me and maybe then I could say

Stop

Allowing other’s transgressions to cause you to miss out on your blessing

I know

It’s hard to picture yourself as being beautiful

When most of the people you’ve interacted with have led you to believe otherwise

But understand that you answer to a higher authority and their opinions pale in comparison

And I wish I could find you a mirror clear enough to show you God’s love inscribed on every inch of your being

Wish that I could superglue Psalm 139:14 & Jeremiah 29:11 or her forehead so every time she looked in that mirror she’d be reassured of her purpose

Know that God didn’t create her to live like she was worthless

And understand no matter how much life hurts it’s only temporary

That trials build character and testimony

And that nothing and no one in this world can fulfill you like your Creator

So stop looking

When it’s time he will come

And you’ll have much more in common

Than how much you both like it when he comes

Until then work on you

I wish I could

She continues to gamble her life away

Each year she ups the ante

Hoping for a big pay day

Not realizing that the game is not a game at all

There are no shortcuts or substitutes

You realize there will be good hands and bad hands

Times of laughter and agony

And you can wallow or you can blossom

But life will still go on regardless

And to truly be a winner

Get to know the owner

Realize that everything is not what it seems

And the first step to changing your reality

Is waking up from your day dream