Do You.

When you stare into the mirror

Do you see yourself?

What do you look like?

Do you like you as much as I do?

Do your eyes still laugh

Even after the memory of his hands on your body rapes you for the millionth time?

Your smile. Does it shine? Does the corner of your mouth still sparkle as the memory of his attempts to break your face shakes you out of your sleep for the 3rd time tonight?

Tell me. I want to know. Where?

After the memory

Of all his rage,

Choking the life from you,

Reminds your lungs how to stop breathing,

Where does the air come

Allowing your eyes to open the next morning.

How have you remembered to breathe?

When you stare into the mirror

Are you alone?

Does mother look at you,

Eyes still covered,

Cuz your mouth remains mute,

To the reality in which you’ve been living.

Has mother been allowed to see all of you?

Do you see father peeking around the blindfold,

hoping to catch a glimpse of you,

Or does his front look very much like his back,

With no avenue for sound to reach him.

Tell me. I want to know. When.

When the last born came crying,

Announcing itself,

Was it then?

Was it then that 3 became 1,

And you the outside participant to a unit

That felt complete enough for them.

When you wake up in the morning,

Dragging yourself nakedly to the mirror,

Tell me. I want to know. Do you see you like I do?

Have you fallen in love with each,

Permanently newly placed decoration,

Healing on your skin?

Are you trippin off that mouth, Like I do,

With its capacity to cause just as much damage as it seeks to create & heal.

When you let go and move to the drum beat

Do you feel as free as I do?

Did you know that freedom taste as light as I feel when we’re in sync?

Tell me. I want to know.

If you’ve married yourself yet?

Have you given every inch of self validation?

have you given you worth? Have you let yourself into every crevice of your humanity, so I could find a home there too.

Tell me. Do you know? Cuz I need to.

Part II

I didn’t understand it.

I wondered,

Where had she gone?

This little girl

Who looked so much like me

Was smiling.

Tapping uniform heels together,

Maybe one more time

And we’d be transported back home.

Transport me back to ‘the before’.

Before that bubbled way of living

Became cold,

Back to the before

You fell out of love with self,

Back to the before

We woke up living two miles away

From the sanctuary our family was birthed in.

Back before home became lie

And lie became the out to all our problems.

Take me back to the before

Where the courage to be brave still exists

And the thought of becoming a coward scared you more so we lived out more of our truths.


Here. Ravished, Devoured after our love making. Here, Where limbs seek one another. Where everyday is joy. Is where I wanted to stay with you. [where’d you go]

Part I

I didn’t understand

And I wondered

Where had she gone?

This little girl

Who looked so much like me

Was smiling.

Her smile untouched by the realities

That growing up blind comes with.

Yes. Blind. Didn’t realize we were drowning

In untruths, mask so polished,

So well made I thought it was my own;

Until it cracked.

Cracked from mother’s I hate you’s

And daddy becomes the nothing he’s promised you.

Cracked from the misconception

that you understood your siblings to begin with.

It hits you the reality that you’ve been breed for a different purpose.

Until it cracks, that mask we wear,



Damn good. Until it crumbles.

Crumbles beneath the pressure

of his weight on top of you,

As he massacres innocence from your dictionary.

Crumbling as he rips empathy

From inside you,

Leaving you there to pick up

And wash away the evidence

Of apathy seeded in you.