This is how my 20's are going so far

At midnight, I rang in my 20th birthday three mugs of wine past delirious and waited until 2am for a phone call I never got. By then the bottle was empty and I fell asleep with eyes spilling over like a glass too full in wet sheets cursing what's his face. The wine was for me to evade this familiar darkness I carried in my chest but that night it just grew and laughed in my face. Nobody knew I was depressed. That even when I was laughing and playing, my heart was a cracked levee ready to burst at any moment. That late at night it invited itself into my bed and cradled me and even when I asked politely to have sleep it didn't go away. That when I undress in front of a mirror and try to force feed my mind and make it swallow that reflection, it throws it back up and says, This is why he is with someone else. That I wake up in the mornings and have panic attacks about not finding something, anything to do because it will occupy my idle body, strap me to my bed, and torture me with several rounds of shocks of memory I shouldn't have seen in the first place. That my smile is a band-aid I wear over scars that it continues to pick at as they try to heal. That everyday I feel like jumping out of my bones because I can't take the consistent aching that runs from my legs all the way up through my heart and into my mind. All because somebody broke my little heart and people say that we all experience heartbreak but it was the way he did it. Web MD says abuse is one of the factors of depression. That was the first time I named what he was doing to me.

Wanted: Have You Seen Her?

I am looking for a girl and I'm wondering if you have seen her:

She was wearing her heart on her right sleeve
Dragging beaten baggage through the streets
When he picked her up
You may notice the brokenness in her smile
From when he tore himself from her lips
You may hear her cry in the way she laughs
She won't let anyone touch her
Because she is way too fragile already
Look out for closed doors and bed sheets
Because that's where she's used to him keeping her
She probably won't come out
If you call her name
So tell her what he used to tell her
That he loved her
That she was beautiful
And I swear she will think it is him
And fix herself up good enough to love him
All over again
Because she believes in him the way Christians believe in God
Asking Him for forgiveness for whatever He deemed as sinful
Praying to him the way he had preyed on her 
Her sun-kissed skin is probably bloody, beaten, and bruised
She is having a hard time forgiving herself
For loving him for too long
She may be really sick
Trying to starve his memory out of her body
Throwing up his smile, his laugh, his eyes
The way he kissed her
And the way he touched her
How his heart felt when she laid her cheek against his hollow chest
How he held her heart in his palm and crushed it like paper
Please find her before he does again
She will consume him like the body of Christ on First Sundays
Swallow his "I missed you" and "Damn you still look good" 
And ask him, "God, why have you forsaken me?" 
She will smell the other women on him
And still be convinced that hers is still the strongest
Tell herself that he came back again because he loved her
Not that he just doesn't have his shit together
She will want to help him because
This is what she defines love as
No one has ever told her she can't help somebody who is that broken
She is probably waiting at a bus stop
Convinced that he is just running a little late this time
But he will come the way he came so many times before
She thinks she has that kind of effect on him
Or she is probably sitting in a cafe
Writing him into her poetry again
Because she knows he hates what she has to say about him
And he will come find her and tell her just that
Or she is running from him again
Because he embarrassed her again
Said that he loved her again
Pulled her into a hug again
Kissed her again
Made love to her again
But she found him singing the same song to someone else again
And told her "I think we should end this" again
Because he doesn't want to hurt her again
Because he cares too much about her again
But this isn't healthy for either one of them again
She has so many tattooed scars on her body
She won't even look at herself in the mirror anymore
Her eyes are probably so full of water
She'll want to drown in her tears tonight 
Like she did last night
And last week
And last month
And last year
All she does is cry at the moon and wonder
Why did he choose to do this to her
If I still know her as well as I did
I am certain she is sitting on the steps of a church
Trying to baptize herself into poetry
So that all of what she knew washes away.

If you find her, please tell her that I miss her.

Romance

What ever happened to Romance?
The sweet dance in dim light to jazz musicians
His rhythmic, steady sway sending shivers down my spine
A sip of Roscato wine as he stares into my eyes
Undressing my mind and not my red dress this time
Do you mind? he would say
Extends his hand to mine and whisks me away into the night
We would explore the city's nightlife 
With palms clasped like praying hands
Praying that this isn't another fall from grace
Preying on only laughter and smiles 
He barely brushes his lips against my right cheek
His fingers lightly resting on the small of my back
Aimlessly guiding me through the beginning spaces of his heart
Showing me his artistic lines and poetic melodies 
His honesty is almost overwhelming
I would almost be foolish to not give this a chance
This is, after all, a first taste of Romance
He would then take my hand and twirl me in the street
And if it rains--
Even better
May I have this last dance? he would say
I throw my head back
And laugh into the rain

My First Love

To my first "love"--
If you thought this poem was going to be about you
You are sadly mistaken
This is for my first real love
Who made me fall in love with words and language
Whose metaphors send shivers down my spine
He introduced me to the essence of synecdoche and metonymy 
His rhythm makes me dance indefinitely
His cadence forcing me to catch my breath frequently
Infinite snaps to you, baby
And when his lines are harmonious
I swear I am on cloud nine
Getting off of that high is the last thing on my mind
Staring into his melancholy eyes
Allows me to see the world in a new light
He defies all of which I have ever known
Breaking rules that I've learned for years in school
Some see his madness as a delusion
I'd rather say that is exactly what he is acknowledging 
About this dry-ass reality
He is often misunderstood
His words often misconstrued
But I am infatuated by them
When he speaks to me
I am easily romanced by them 
Or easily confused
And I wonder if the way he speaks to me
Has made other hearts fall in love with him just as easily
I try to read between his lines
Dissect his stanzas
Look beyond his melodic phrases
Because real eyes realize real lies
His paradoxes are what stump me the most
The irony of them makes me wonder
And when wonder becomes questions 
Become assumptions become accusations
Becomes distrust becomes having had enough
He sweet talks me once again
And I fall in love with him once again
This is for you, my love
This, is for Poetry.

Dark Room

Imagine sitting in a pitch-black room
Alone
Can't see anything, no kind of light is able to penetrate this kind of darkness
You are scared
You want to move
But how? Where will you go?
You can't see anything
Your heart is so heavy that it suffocates air going into your lungs
You cry
but that only impairs your vision even more
Mom is on the other end of the phone
trying to guide you out of this place
telling you, honey, you have to get out of there
But you can't move
Her love isn't enough to guide you out of this dark place
And you just sit there
Alone
In this pitch-black room
Suffocating
And crying
I used to think that I was untouchable,
that depression was just a neighbor I saw in the morning when I left for school
I'd laugh and say, no, I'm just going through something
This, too, shall pass
That I needed a doctor to tell me that I am suffering from it
But then I realized this darkness was almost inevitable
That it is a heavy cloak I wear every single day,
trying to hide it with a smile but concluding that that hurt way too much
I don't need a doctor to tell me what I feel in the pit of my stomach
That I am probably the 1 in 10 Americans who suffer from depression
That not a day goes by that I feel myself slipping back into my dark room
It scares me to know that I know this dark place
But do I think I have no way out?
That I will become the unfortunate few who succumb to it 
and live in eternal darkness?
No
I'm barely 20
I have yet to make my mark on this world
That is my light out of this dark room

Jada's Honest Poem

Hi, my name is Jada
In Hebrew that means wise, but I will believe almost anything
I was born on the 22nd of January--dead of winter,
how ironic it is that I am probably one of the warmest people you will ever meet
I am only 4'11, but I swear I am much bigger than that
I just don't want people to believe they can take advantage of me
Because small often times means weak
I don't know how to swim, which probably explains why
I find myself drowning in my own tears often
And I have a weakness for a guy who makes me drunk off of his play on words 
I'm still learning how to be sober
Because I fall for words from false lips
And often am too afraid to hear any truths
I was born a twin, and I've been afraid of lonely ever since
I like watching The Perks of Being a Wallflower
It comforts me in knowing that people just like me exist
We see things, we keep quiet about them, and we understand.
We are wallflowers.
I've been told I trust too easily,
That I always see the good in every single person I meet,
Ignore the bad signs,
And then become surprised when they do me wrong
I get really nervous when someone tells me how beautiful I am
It's not that I never thought so; 
I just didn't think anyone ever noticed me
I have an odd fascination with trees and lying in grass
They remind me of the first time I fell in love
And I feel him there whenever I'm in the presence of either
I guess that's why I have attachment issues 
I know it sounds crazy but it reminds me that I'm not afraid to get close to people
But I am scared to death when things stop going well and I may lose someone
Someone I have deemed as an important character in my story
I'm very clumsy
One day I tripped over my insecurities 
Landed on my self-esteem
And it shattered like a fallen mirror
And has never been right ever since
I've never liked taking risks
But I have this red badge of courage that makes me go after things that may hurt me
I wonder what my walls say about me when I'm not around
I go in my room 
Close my door
Undress my armor
And lie in my truth
But I don't tell it as much as I should
My name is Jada
I am a small person with a big voice and a big heart
I am a walking contradiction
I enjoy playing with animals, waking up late, and laughing until I cry
I have a solar-powered smile
And a battery-operated confidence
My hobbies currently include:
Editing my imperfections
Hiding behind my pen
And trying to convince my heart that it's not in love with the wrong person
I don't know much but I do know this:
That I am destined to write the wrongs of this world
And I know that one day somebody will love my scars
Just as much as I love theirs

The Ugly Truth

The little girl inside of me used to believe in Disney
that there was a Prince Charming for her too
and he will love her in all of her glory.
What Disney didn't tell her about love
is how much pain it can cause.

So I told her, If I ever (ever fall) in love again
I'll tread the waters with such caution
so that I'll never ever drown again.

But everything changed when our eyes met.

I didn't realize how deeply I had fallen in them
until I couldn't remember what your singing to me sounded like
and the way the corners of your mouth curled up into a smile.
Now I'm standing on the other side of a love song.
Nights have turned into late-night cravings for your touch
and I worry I am asking for too much.
Our connection has been weakening 
as someone else places their hand upon your arm.

Where had we gone so wrong?

She lies next to me on drenched bed sheets
and I'm trying to tell her that I'm sorry,
I promise her that I will do better,
that I should have done more to protect her
unintentionally exposing her to your imperfections.
Our hearts are crying out to you
wondering why you cannot hear us.
Constantly waking to our worst nightmare
realizing that you are no longer there.

I don't know what will give me the strength
to make me just walk away
because the only answers my prayers have been given
are of a stranger I refuse to believe in.
Or have you been fooling me?
Playing with my heart, taking me for granted?

You still make my heart beat.
But you are slowly killing me.

I cannot blame Disney for not telling her the ugly truth
because she's simply too young to understand
that fairytales and mankind just don't go hand-in-hand.

Not A Man

Part I:
"I am a man," he said.
I scoffed. Really?
I didn't know a man played games, trying to get all that he can get
so that in the end he wins
I didn't know one of the languages he did not speak was honesty
I didn't know he hid his emotions because his boys say he's a bitch if he shows them
That he's too young
He just wants to play because he'll have enough time for all the grown folk stuff later
He just wants to have fun
Why settle on one ice cream flavor when there are so many more you haven't even tried yet?


Part II:
You thought you were a man.

You run from breast to breast, feining for a taste
I thought your mother weened you off of that shit
You slither through a bed of weeds with your smooth talk 
telling them the same sweet things in three different languages
making them all fall in love with you
And what happens when you finally come across a rose?
She's too much to handle
because she requires too much grown folk stuff
so you find your way out
Oh but make sure to tell the next one to take good care of her
because she's beautiful and she deserves it.
Bullshit.
That, my dear, is not a man.
That, sir, is a little ass boy.

You wanna be called a man?
Then stand in your truth
and admit when you've done wrong
And simply just do what's right.

And then maybe,
just maybe,
you can be a man.