I should, would have, could have

The sun that reflects joy

does not shine under regulations

it autonomously illuminates because it has the freedom to do so

I subconsciously lie down with retaliation

hoping to God

That I would retaliate

i should have not laid there

i could have gotten up

i would have stopped pondering on my hesitance that disabled me from taking initiative

i silently drown in despondency

Pleading that someone could hear my pleads for help

I could have prevented this

I should have asserted myself

I would have been louder

I fallaciously pretend that my logic is more sensical than my pain that desperately need healing

illogically speculating that my own blood would care enough to console me

Instead I reluctantly rely on the phlegmatic blanket

that contains no emotional consolation

i should have could have would have

i love the synchronous death of hypothesis

because we all know that life does not hypothesize

but that it paralyzed the lives of every weak and strong individual who will not live again

so i could have

i would have

i should have

but I didn't

This emotion

Precipitates from the heavens

It’s divine structure

Descends to nourish nature

With its intimate elements

Growing gardens and forests

As the leaves lie underneath the wind

But,

mortality cannot touch it;

its intricate body is translucent

and if one's connection is authentic,

they will realize that:

it can live without lust

it can breathe without air

the sky coheres to its inexplicable beauty

because without this emotion

the sky is limited

logic cannot compete with its perplexity

because without this emotion

logic is superfluous

though life extracts the soil from the plants

life cannot partaken this emotion

because without this emotion

life is not worth living.

Yet,

when it rains

I do not grow

as the vegetables and the trees

instead I remain

insentient

as the fruitless seed

because this emotion is love;

It is intangible

Sunflowers grow through photosynthesis

but without the sun, it cannot live

Sometimes we waste time

by pondering the time that already passed

A woman divorces her husband

due to a prolonged disconnection

And realizes after she marries another man

that she lost the love of her life

Stokely Carmichael was deemed as a terrorist

yet he never committed any crime

Hendrix, Jackson, and the Beatles were musical geniuses

And they never needed to know how to read music

If I ever die, I would

Like it to be in the morning

So that the daylight illuminates my mutilated soul

That I effectively concealed when I was alive

The universe is composed of boundless galaxies

All that contain infinite light years

That seemingly never cease from existence

Again

I stand

Superficial walls collide

Against my Free Spirit

I can thrust them

From my existence

But I obeyed the frivolous lie

So this lack of initiative

Acquitted compulsion

And incarcerated my Free Will

Again

I stand

Words of wisdom

Emerge from my Intuition

I can apply them

To my existence

But I obeyed the frivolous lie

So this lack of conscience

Exonerated fear

And incriminated my courage

Again

I stand

Perfect opportunities

Vouch for my Ideal Dream

I can seize them

Beyond my existence

But I obeyed the frivolous lie

So this lack of ambition

Condoned stoic idleness

And condemned my determination

Again

...

Again

I stood

And again

I remained standing

Convoluted emotions

Deflected my rationality

And convinced me

To seek pessimism

So the truth confronted me

In the midst of my subconscious contradiction

And demystified the Fallacy that

“I was passive”

When inexorable realities

Revealed my aggression

After the Fallacy

Renounced its dominion

I defied that frivolous lie

Yet such endeavors

Devitalized me

I wheezed

For the desperate air

That inflamed my delicate veins

And proximately exhausted an ultimate breath

Until Resilience

Oxygenated my tenacity

And added frictional force to my journey

Accelerating

Refutation

Justice

Passion

And Conviction

As I walk

I didn’t write today

Until I waited for tomorrow

When I anticipated to say

That I had always felt this sorrow

Of savoring the perfections

That I knew I couldn’t swallow

Since I always had Faith

That It would end tomorrow

Once Life declared suffering

I disposed the instruments

That crafted the absolute freedom

Of whimsical expressions

And sustained the malevolent envy

Of indignant failures

That stimulated dictatorial anger

As I listened to the mellifluous stanzas

My soul summoned me

To delve into its candid beauty

Blinded by improvements

I exclaimed disappointment

And my irresolute arms

Embraced each other

As the world witnessed this impudence

My swollen pupils

Decidedly disconnected from emotion

And I dangerously became phlegmatic

Gradually inserting the pen

Into this vacillated cranium

That I refused to identify as ‘Logic’

And acquiesced the insanity

That dismissed the innovative language

After trillions of seconds

The extirpated words escaped from the scribbles

That I had produced

And ran to the crumbled blank papers

For security and recovery

As the clock pitied my deficient time

I reminisced the exuberant princess

That never erased her flawed expressions

But always took pride her flawed expressions

After enduring this love affair

I rejected this deception

That intentionally

Stole me

From me

Because

Inconsistency

Was not the reason

Why I couldn't grow

It was my perpetual cry

And ephemeral smile

That compelled me to go

I'm dark. I'm BLACK. I may be violent, cantankerous, periodically complacent, but

I am NOT afraid!

A BLACK girl is presumably “so serious and angry all the time” and goes to a predominately white school because the predominantly black school could care less about another Afro’s education. Where has history left us? In social settings where I am encouraged to share my different experiences and communicate with my black associates, I don't because they are incognizant of their minority status or better yet they are just ignorant GHETTO blacks that can't name one AFRICAN slave. Or vice versa, in classroom settings where I am exposed to a pool of whiteness, I don't share my experiences because they are inherently misconceived and desensitized.

So these idiosyncrasies haughtily reveals itself

As I digest these incurable fallacies

The reality authenticates

After I hear my dad call my mother a “Nigga”

The reality authenticates

After my granddad extols my straight, flat-ironed hair

And degrades my natural kinky curls

The reality authenticates

After I reflect on my past ordeals

In which I disgraced and dismissed my own fragile culture

Yet

After my reflections metamorphoses to dreams

My future effaced these realities

My life reflects the sun's brilliance

When I have deep, intriguing conversations about cultural diversity and inclusiveness

My life reflects the sun's brilliance

When I disapprove the unsound criticisms against my darkness

My life reflects the sun's brilliance

When I edify a non-black culture of AFROCENTRIC feminism

My life reflects the sun's brilliance

When I watch intellectual film crafted by an African woman

That reconceptualized the stigma between Africans and African Americans

My life reflects the sun's brilliance

When I declare my own prosperity

Through all of the humanities

That binds the inscriptions

Of Ingenious Cognitions

So I am NOT the ordained setback

Even though history

Continually brings me down

My resilient culture

Brings me back up

The BLACK FIST

I raise proudly in the air

Not only evinces my solidarity

But revitalizes my ethnicity

Hence

I am not a racist

Nor am I an extremist

I am a dedicated activist

That my ancestors had predetermined

I live in a house

Where the faucets never turn off

Continually expelling

Venom of purified addictions

And dispelling

Through the permeable walls of Relapse

So that we never drown

As I drag

My extroverted silence

Across these buoyant floors

Shattered glasses

Puncture my indifference

And awaken my vengeance

While the blood

Unveils an infamous misdemeanor

Committed by

A compensational narcissist

And the horrified screams

Emitted from the voice

Of my inebriated mother

To secure my providence

I conceal such indictments

In the graveyard

Where the immobile swing set

Denounces my sacred films

Of peaceful bunny rabbits

And melodious crayons

Without cognizance

I stood remotely

In the mirror

Reflecting the Innocent Past

Of my Present Self

Unlike me, I love me.

Hate me and I smile

Because you attempt at depleting

My confidence.

Morally I don't hate you.

Because I attempt at increasing

Your envy.

Yeah I am a youngster

Writing things that don't make sense.

Because I write what I feel.

Writing is not just my art

But my soulmate

That knows more about me

Than I do.

It transforms my individuality

And optimizes my personality.

When I am lost

It empowers me

To always search for the beginning

Cuz' this journey has no end.

So your criticism is like the ground

That never made it to the top.

So don't blame me for your insecurity.

Oh. I get it.

You want to change who I really am

Due to my nonconformity

To the world and the rest

Of so called "humanity".

How about I clarify my position.

I am a black hawk who is not

Distracted by heights.

I eat what I like.

Your salty insults

Are delicious.

Just like my prose

Your odium seasons my style.

Notice that you're actually feeding me

More than what I need.

So dislike my writing

And I continue writing

Cuz' this ain't no disillusion.