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.



