Imagine Her Being a Butterfly

It’s hard to imagine a black woman being a butterfly in this world.

Can you imagine that?

I hope that some of you can, but I struggle to imagine it.

I think about a black woman who protested and risked her life every single day for the justice of a black man.

Unfortunately, that black woman would later be sexually assaulted and murdered by a black man.

Can you imagine that?

Then, I think about a black woman who was sleeping in the privacy and safety of her own home.

Her own home would be mistakenly invaded by the police.

She would then be brutally murdered by the police.

Can you imagine that?

I think about how a black woman’s protection is conditional.

For some black men, a black woman has to meet certain criteria points in order to have their protection and love.

At the same time, she must still be strong.

Never weak, always strong.

A black woman must listen and submit themselves to these black men in order to have some of their protection.

Can you imagine that?

I think about these things and wonder if a black woman can truly be a butterfly.

Can she fly, flutter and be free?

Or will she always be a caterpillar trapped in a unbreakable cocoon?

I would love to see a black woman be a butterfly.

It would be beautiful and glorious, but I struggle to imagine it.

She always has to meet certain standards.

She’s always expected to stand, fight, protest, protect and march.

She’s always getting attacked for doing too little or too much.

I often wonder does she even have the time and opportunity to be a butterfly?

I’m genuinely asking because I have no idea.

Can you be positive about the future of a black woman?

Can you see a black woman be free and exceed expectations?

Can you see her fly high in the sky?

Can you imagine a black woman being a butterfly?

A Black Girl’s Dream

Black girls have dreams too.

I wish I could tell you all of their dreams, but I can only tell you one black girl’s dreams.

I hope more black girls’ dreams can be shared.

But for now, it’s just one black girl’s dream I’m sharing.

I promise nothing more and nothing less.

Just one black girl’s dream.

This black girl has a dream that she has a choice.

She has a dream that she doesn’t always have to be strong.

She dreams of having moments of being weak and vulnerable because everyone deserves those moments.

She also dreams that she doesn’t always have to be a warrior, a nurturer or an activist.

This black girl dreams of being a dreamer, a lover or even her own woman.

She dreams of not always being in the frontlines of fighting racism and injustice.

She dreams of black men wanting to protect her rather than having her fight as well.

Or fight beside her.

Again, this is not every black girls’ dream.

Just one black girl’s dream.

Can a black girl dream?

Can she make her dreams become a reality?

Or is she always expected to face the harsh realities of this cruel world?

I have no idea.

I’m just sharing one black girl’s dream.

Just one black girl’s dream.

I would like to give thanks to my little sister Shawna for this poem. She was the inspiration behind this poem.

This poem is also dedicated to Oluwatoyin Salau, Breonna Taylor, black women and black girls. You all matter in this time of protesting, and you all deserve to be treated and protected better by everyone, especially black men.

Black Queens

Thank you for everything that you have done for us black men.

Without you, we would be lost.

You guide us in the right direction.

You all help us when we need it most.

You support us when we’re struggling to stand up.

You nurture us when we are sick and wounded.

You comfort us in the blackest of nights.

You soothe us when we face our darkest nightmares.

You educate us so that we can be better.

You do so much for us, and you deserve more praise and honor.

You are beautiful beyond measure.

Your melanin is gorgeous in all shades.

How can I resist your pretty brown eyes?

Your pretty brown eyes shine bright with ebony and gold.

Your smile always welcomes love, comfort and kindness.

Your soul is pure and wholesome.

You have a beauty like no other.

I love you black women.

Without you, I would not be the black man that I am today.

You are responsible in how I treat and respect all women.

You have taught me so much about loving myself and the color of my skin.

You empower me and help me grow at unimaginable heights.

You have shown me love and how to properly reciprocate it.

Thank you black women for molding and shaping me.

Thank you for being more than just women.

Thank you for being black queens.

This poem is dedicated to black women and their beauty. In this time of hardship and struggle to find justice for not only George Floyd, but also other black lives that were lost because of police brutality and racism, it’s important for us as African Americans to know our beauty, especially black women. You are beautiful, and you help uplift us in unimaginable ways. Keep staying strong and beautiful because you are appreciated.

The Old Man at the Bus Stop

I wait patiently for my bus at an abandoned mall.

I remember my times at this abandoned yet familiar mall.

I remember the sacred moments I had with family, friends and even a girl.

I especially think about the girl and the spot we shared together.

I miss the spot.

I miss the girl.

I think about those two things too much sometimes,

When I’m at the bus stop.

I long to forget about the paradise I once had in my life.

A few drops of rain fall from a gray sky.

It adds a little more sadness into my heart.

I wonder why there can’t be more sunshine in the sky or even in my soul?

I miss the sunshine that I once had in life.

I wish for it, but it’s long gone.

It’s somewhere far away, while I’m in a place of darkness.

A place I fear that I will never escape.

Is escape possible?

As usual, I don’t have an answer.

God really does know how to create a depressing situation.

Enters the old man.

I look at the old man, and he seems sad and depressed.

He is a white man with a gray beard.

Then, I see a part of his hat that read “Vietnam” on it.

He’s a veteran, I naturally assume.

I start to feel bad for him

Because it seems like he had suppressed one too many things

That I could never imagine.

That weight of suppression has him looking down at not only the world but also himself.

He is lost and abandoned.

The old man looks at me, says hi and gives me his best smile.

I did the same thing as well.

I want to keep my distance and not talk anymore.

Nothing against him, but I’m just comfortable with silence and my own thoughts.

There’s just comfort in being alone.

People just complicate your state of mind.

However, he wants to talk some more with me.

I want to politely tell him that I don’t want to have a conversation

But then I stop myself.

I realize that maybe we both really need this conversation.

Maybe our conversation would have a purpose.

Maybe meeting each other was crafted by God.

Maybe I’m stretching, but I need to find out for myself.

Five minutes into our conversation, we’re sharing laughter and smiles.

We’re sharing our emotions and feelings.

We’re sharing anything we can.

I never expected to share so much to him.

I share so many secrets and disappointments

How could I admit and open up so much to a stranger,

When I struggle with being honest with others and myself?

He looks at me and asks me when was the last time I cried.

I tell him with ease that it’s been a long time.

Then he tells me to not be afraid to do so.

He was a soldier,

He admits that there were times that he had to cry.

Crying really helped him let go.

He pleads for me to cry when I get the opportunity.

Before I can respond, my bus arrives.

I look at him and promise that I will try.

He nods his head, smiles and thanks me for having a conversation with him.

I tell him that it was an honor.

I say goodbye to him and get on the bus.

The bus rides away from the abandoned mall.

And I leave the old man at the bus stop.

This poem is dedicated to a veteran that I had a conversation with at a bus stop two years ago. It was one of the most realest conversations I ever had with someone, and I’m so thankful and blessed for that conversation.

Happy Memorial Day.

Hugs and Kisses

It’s not hard to show you love and affection.

In fact, it’s the easiest thing.

I know it’s because you’ve taught me so much about love.

It’s also because you’re a person that I can’t live without.

I can’t be without your love because it hits different.

It’s been with me since the day I was born.

It’s been with me in times that I was struggling and needing it most.

It’s a love that is unconditional.

Thank you for that love.

I don’t know who I would be without it.

It has shaped and molded me into the person that I am today.

Without it, I would be lost.

Without it, I wouldn’t know how love really felt.

Some people don’t know how to love properly because they were never taught how to.

Thank you for being that teacher for me.

You’ve always taught me that love is patient and kind.

You’ve always taught me that the true beauty of love comes through growth.

It’s consistent and built on the foundations of hard work and trust.

I thank God every day for you showing me that different kind of love.

I wonder how can I thank you for it though?

I don’t think I can even compare to all the time, energy and love you poured into me all my life.

However, I can try every single day for you.

I don’t mind.

In fact, I’m thankful and honored that I can.

I love you so much with all my heart.

I promise to strive and give you that special kind of love.

I promise that it will be an unconditional love.

I promise you a love that is patient and kind.

I promise you an affectionate love that consists of hugs and kisses.

This poem is dedicated to my mama for Mother’s Day Weekend. I love her so much, and I’m thankful and blessed for everything that she has done for me as a mother. She really put in the necessary time, energy and love in me that has helped shape the person that I am today. Mama, I hope you feel loved and cherished today on Mother’s Day. Thank you again for being such an amazing mother to me, and Zaiah Bear loves you berry much!

Dying Too Soon

I fear that death is around the corner, but you try to assure me that I’ll be fine

Can I really trust you?

I’m not sure anymore.

Madness is creeping over my shoulders.

Darkness is facing me with a smile on its face.

Where are you at though?

Thou is everywhere, but thou is nowhere in my sight.

Maybe I’m too lost in my own thoughts.

Maybe my mind is playing evil tricks on me that I know not of.

Then again, how close am I to death?

Can you give me an answer?

Or is your silence the only answer you can give me right now?

I’m in a place that I don’t even recognize.

It’s a place that I never expected to be in but I knew of it.

How did I end up here?

I thought I did everything right, but I was wrong.

I didn’t do enough for you or even myself.

Now, my regrets torture and plague my dying soul.

I need you right now, but you’re still silent.

Death has me in my grasp, but you remain silent.

The footsteps of death itself are deafening.

There’s nowhere else for me to go.

All I can do is wait for death to introduce itself to me.

Please don’t let me die right now.

I’m not ready for what comes after.

You know that, right?

You have to know that.

Please, I need you right now.

Give me a chance to make things right in this world

Please, you have to understand.

I am dying too soon.

My Conversation With God

Why do I pray to you every single day?

Is it because I’m required to?

Is it because I’m trying to get something I want that only you can give me?

Or is it for a specific reason?

Please, give me the answer.

Am I praying because religion requires it for me to get into Heaven?

Am I praying because I have to place my hopes, wishes and dreams in you?

Am I praying because it will help me fulfill a specific purpose in my life?

I don’t know, but I hope that I can find the answer for myself.

I’ve lost my faith in religion, I hope that doesn’t offend you.

It’s just that I recognized that I can’t rely on church to get me closer to you.

There are too many rules, politics, judgement and discrimination involved within the church that make it hard to get close to you.

Please forgive me when I say that church is not the gateway to you.

Instead, I think that it’s a dangerous tool.

However, I still want to use it but with caution.

But I recognize that it’s not the answer to you.

Only my faith and relationship with you is the answer.

I hope that you’re with everyone that I care about.

I hope that you’re with everyone that has hurt me in different ways.

I hope that you’re with everyone that needs you right now.

I hope that you can give them all the strength to fight the demons that they’re dealing with that I have knowledge and little knowledge about.

I hope and pray.

As our conversation is coming to an end, I want you to know that I love you with all my heart.

I’m not ashamed of having you in my life.

You’re the one thing that has helped me believe in myself.

You taught me that hard work, patience and dedication will lead to the miracles in my life.

I thank you for the strength you’ve given me to go get my blessings that you established in my life.

Thank you for all the things you have done in my life.

And thank you for this conversation.

No One Like You

When I’m with other girls, I think about you.

I compare you to them, and I’m disappointed with the results.

I wonder why they can’t be like you?

Why they can’t put my mind at ease like you can?

Why they can’t hold me like you can?

Why they can’t kiss me like you can?

Why is it so hard with them, but it was easy with you?

I know that we didn’t fall in love, but we were close.

I remember that night in your room where love was patiently waiting for us.

I knew that if we took things further that night, love would be certain in our relationship.

You were all over me, and your kisses were different.

They wanted something more from me.

They wanted every part of my body, and they were hard to resist.

The taste of your lips was irresistible to me.

I couldn’t stop sucking and licking them.

They were just like candy.

So sweet and so delicious.

They knew how to treat me right.

Why can’t other lips be like your lips?

We almost make love a reality, but I push you away at the last minute.

You understand, but you’re hurt.

How could I not give love a chance with you?

Sadly, I was bound to the fears and rules that shaped me.

God was so proud of me, but I was disappointed in myself.

I try to tell you that you did nothing wrong, but you don’t believe me.

Instead, you want me to leave.

I do as you wish and leave you alone.

How could I be so foolish with you?

How could I not take things further with you?

How could I not allow myself to fall in love with you?

I know I was young, but I could’ve done better.

That night with you always haunts me because you could’ve been the first girl I ever loved.

I fear that you were the one that was supposed to be my everything.

I fear that you were my one chance at love.

I fear that you will always be a nightmare.

I fear that no one will ever be like you.

The Strangest Compliment: Episode One

In this episode, I witnessed an old man give one of the strangest compliments I ever heard to a female coworker of mine. It was compliment that had me dying of laughter, and it really made my day. I remember the old man trying to explain his rationale to me, but the damage had been done. The compliment he gave was weird, off the wall and a little creepy. It’s a compliment that one should never use on a woman, especially a young woman. It’s a compliment that all men should stay away from. Let me tell you all about it.

Back when I was working at Sheetz, I remember that I was coming in for my usual 6am-2pm shift. It was a Friday, and I was somewhat in the mood to work with only four hours of sleep. I came in at 5:59, and I saw this new female coworker of mine behind the counter. Her name was Fate, and it was her third day on the job. She was a gorgeous, attractive, young woman, and she was a very optimistic and happy person at Sheetz. I enjoyed working with her all of the time. It was always fun and cool working with her. She would always make me laugh, and I would always make her laugh too, and we just had a really good vibe. It also helped that she was black too. It was nice that another person of color was working at Sheetz, and I didn’t feel so alone.

I walk inside, see Fate behind the counter and say hi to her. She gives me a big smile and says hi back to me. One of my other coworkers, Sara, noticed my interaction with Fate. I put my head back and sighed because I knew what was coming. I went to the backroom, clocked in and saw Sara. I said hi to her, and she gave me a big smile. I chuckled and said, “What is it, Sara?”

“The new girl is kinda cute, huh,” Sara said.

I laughed and replied, “Yeah, she’s cute, I can’t deny it.”

“So, when’s the biggest flirt in the store gonna get her number?”

I laughed and said, “Sara, I’m not a flirt. I’m just friendly, that’s all. I am not flirtatious in any way.”

“Whatever makes you sleep at night, flirt, just go out there and work your magic,” Sara replied.

I just laughed and shook my head. Before I could say anything, Sara left and went to the kitchen. I grabbed my headset and went to the front where Fate was stationed. There was a little line formed to the register, so I wasn’t too concerned with taking care of it by myself. I went to an open register and started ringing customers’ items. I saw that Fate was almost finished with a customer, so I said, “Hey Fate, after that customer, you’re good to go, I can take care of this line myself.”

“Wow, you’re so eager to push me away, I thought we had something special,” Fate joked.

I laughed and replied, “Nah, we don’t, it’s about time for you to go and get the steppin.”

We both laughed, and she said, “You’re so silly, but I have to help you with this line.”

I didn’t object because if she wanted to stay, then that was her prerogative. If the situations were reversed, I would’ve been gone already. Her shift was over, and there was no reason for her to stay and help me out. At the same time, it was sweet of her to stay with me and bring down the line.

Anyways, I was ringing up a customer when this old, black man was at Fate’s register. He was in his late 40s, early 50s. He was a regular customer that would come in Monday-Friday in the morning before he had to go to work. However, he was at Sheetz earlier than usual. I wondered why he was at Sheetz, but then it was revealed. He looked at her and said, “My oh my, I heard about you but you looking even better in person. How you doing?”

Of course, he came for Fate. I was nervous because I didn’t what this old man was about to say to Fate, but I knew that it was going to be something crazy and off the wall. I just had a feeling.

Fate gave a nervous chuckle and said, “Oh wow, I’m doing good, I’m just about to be—

I interrupted, “Fate, hurry up, we got a line forming, you gotta talk and work.”

I interrupted because I knew that Fate was about to tell him that she was about to be done with work. There was no reason for him to know that, especially with the fact that he came for her. The old man laughed and said, “Isaiah, she’s doing a fine, great job with me, you don’t have to worry about her.”

I chuckled and said alright. Then, he continued, ” By the way, you’re such a pretty, little thing. Isn’t she pretty, Isaiah?”

I nodded in agreeance and Fate thanked him for the compliment. Now, I thought that he was done after he said that. That would’ve been a good stopping point for him, but there was more. Yes, what he said next was a truly strange compliment. He said, “Now, are you sure that you’re old enough to work here at Sheetz? You don’t really look that old, but you’re looking just as cute and pretty as a 12-year-old girl.”

My mouth was wide open when he said that. I was so confused and perplexed that I didn’t know what to do. I looked at Fate, and she had this horrified look on her face. I’ll admit that Fate did look young for her age but to call her a 12-year-old girl was kind of pushing it and a little bit more of an insult than a compliment. How was she going to respond? I wondered. She looked at him, gave a nervous smile and chuckled and asked him what did he mean by that. He explained, “Nah, I meant that you have this youthful look about you. You know what I mean? It’s like this, you look like you’re 16 years old. It’s a compliment to your youthful look, baby girl.”

I was trying so hard to keep my laughter, but it was so hard. I was in tears and just trying to keep it together. Then, Fate laughed and said, “I’m older than 16 years old, though. That’s kind of messed up that you think that I’m a child.”

“No, it ain’t even like that,” he said. The old man tried to plead his case, but he was failing miserably. He wanted me to help him out, but I couldn’t. I was trying to keep my composure because I had just heard the weirdest compliment I ever heard. Eventually, he ended up looking at his watch and realizing that he needed to go. He grabbed his things, looked at Fate and said, “I’ll see you around, baby girl. You doing an amazing job, don’t let Isaiah tell you otherwise.”

Once he left the building, I ended up just laughing like crazy. I was rolling. Fate smiled at my laughter and asked me what just happened. I ceased laughter, wiped the tears out of my eyes and said, “Clearly, he likes them young, my bad, real young with his old, pedophilic self. I can’t believe he compared you to a 12-year-old girl.”

We both ended up laughing, and she just couldn’t believe it herself. She said, “Yeah, it was so weird and creepy, I hope I don’t see him again.”

“Oh, you will. He likes you, and he’s trying to get to know you. These old men that come in here, are trying to get young, pretty girls that are employees here like you in any way they can. They think they can say or do whatever they want to you because you can’t run away from them. Ironically, they think you’re product in the store that they can own. It’s sad and pathetic, which is why you gotta be careful here, especially with the male customers. This place is toxic towards the women that work here, remember that.” I stated.

She understood, but she wondered what she was going to do about the old man. I replied, “Oh, that’s easy, all you gotta do is just tell him that you gotta boyfriend,” I responded.

Fate laughed and responded, “But that’s lying, Isaiah. Plus, maybe I won’t see him again.”

It’s true, she wouldn’t see him again. In fact, he would come in the very next day trying to find her. She wouldn’t be there, but I would be there. However, that’s another story. I just really wasn’t expecting such a strange compliment at Sheetz.

This is the end of “The Strangest Compliment: Episode One.”

Be sure to like, comment and share your thoughts on this short story. There are more episodes to come in this short story series “The Strangest Compliment.”

The Death of You

It’s frightening that I have murder on my mind.

I have to remind myself that I’m justified in killing you.

Please understand that I don’t want to do this.

Killing you is my worst nightmare.

I’ve always loved you and everything you’ve done for me.

You’re the reason for my Shawshank Redemption.

You’re the reason for my motivation to fight.

You’re the reason for my dedication to life.

Nevertheless, I have to end you.

I rely on you way too much.

You have failed me countless times.

You’re an ally that I can no longer afford to have by my side.

We’ve lost too many battles together in this great war called life.

The enemy is destroying us at will from all angles, yet you tell me to be patient.

You tell me to stay optimistic for help will be on the way.

You tell me to trust in you, and I trust in you.

Years later, we’re still losing the battles that you said we could win.

And you’re still telling me the same things.

How long can I continue this never ending cycle of losing?

How long must I show goodness and mercy to all of my enemies?

How long can I tolerate you?

I’m sorry that it had to come to this.

I never expected this day to come.

I thought that we would always be together.

I thought that you would always be my strength.

I thought that you would always be the one to comfort me.

I thought, and I was wrong.

The thought of killing you is madness.

I don’t want to lose you.

I didn’t think I could ever lose you.

Like dreams, nightmares do come true, too.

At the same time, circumstances have changed.

Killing you is a necessary evil.

I’m sorry that I have to do this.

I’m sorry that I have to betray you.

I’m sorry that I have to abandon you.

I’m sorry that I have to crucify you.

I’m sorry that I have to murder you.

Please, forgive me.

Please forgive me for the death of you.