So I was browsing through my journal and found a poem, an actual POEM, that I forgot existed.  I figured it’s more real than a lot of the drama I mull over in this blog.  So here goes:

You were critiquing the fake-ness of our world, so I wanted to offer you something real.

Only,  I couldn’t find anything real to give you.

You opened your mouth, and your words warmed my heart.  On that walk of destiny.

A path I had been on so many times before without paying attention

But your words demanded my respect.

Not because you are acclaimed by academia,

Not because you’re a ghetto superstar,

Not because you’re fine – and it’s late night.

But because your words articulated years of my frustrated and tongue-tied sighs.

They simply captured the complexities of me.

I didn’t have to choose who I wanted to be.  Who I wanted you to meet.

Didn’t wonder if I wasn’t black enough.  Or masculine enough.

I feared your judgement because you understood me.  You exposed all my chaos.

Falling in love with a conversation.

That rush of dopamine you get from the excitement of finding a kindred spirit.

It was a rare moment.  To get out of my own way and ignore the neurosis.

Calmed by just being with you.

I didn’t understand how being a Black Queer Man could be a revlutionary act until I met you

And I felt joy, and wonder, and harmony, and potential.

Two unique souls bound by a common thread.

Seamless in our navigation through comical man made boxes.

Transcending our titles

No need to explain, justify, defend, adapt.

Had we walked under the stars any sooner I might not have been ready.

Nascent yet optimistic  in the art of self love,

Only recently having committed to valuing myself like I deserve,

It felt fresh to love you  for who you are

And just to walk.