makedamnsure.

if i can think of any lesson

that i've learned this school year

that is slowly winding to a close

make damn sure

makedamnsure that you

know exactly who you are

and never forget

write it down

put it in your blackberry

set a reminder once a week

hide it under your mattress

like a 4th grade diary 

scribble it on a post it note

and place it by your light switch

because if you don't remember

they will rip you up

and tear you down

and tell you that you

are everything that you're not

everything they despise

so before its too late

and you lose the faith

you better make damn sure

makedamnsure 

you dont submit

never forget

day n nite.

as much as i hate papers

and bullshit assignments i love 

our study sessions

itssooooocutebaby

when you sit down next to me

on my bed posted up on the wall

with your book filled with crazy problems

numbers and things that look like squiggles 

with your headphones on

tapping your right hand on the page

scribbling answers with your left

and its usually around 3:30 am that i 

wrap my assignments up or

set my alarm to wake up at 6 to finish

i turn to look at you and your head

is bobbing up and down, exhausted

eventually one of us will fall over

or fall off the bed. so sad.

and we put the books and bookbags

and pencils and paper

on the ground and i crumble

into your arms under my covers

snuggled in the sheets ears pressed

against your chest listening to your heart beat

and by this point in the night

or the morning, technically

your arms always find a way

to wrap around my chest

stroke my hair and breathe into

my ear until you fall asleep

you usually fall asleep before i do

so im half dazed laying here

looking up at you 

counting your eyelashes

stroking your cheek

until i lose count and i fall asleep

rinse

wash

repeat

a poem written when i should be studying.

sometimes you need to just

do the exact opposite of what needs to be done

at the moment

right now i should be studying for

a general logic test that i'll probably fail but

this poem needs to 

sprout wings and take root and be

presented to the world

and although everything is different

and i wouldn't have imagined it

six months ago things are

better than i would have imagined

and although last week i

threw up a white flag in defeat

this week i came out guns blazing

and although now things are more tense

on this campus than normal

in more ways than one

the storm inside of me

is calming down

and although my head is stuffy

im sneezing like a motherfucker

and im breathing like a creep

its time to renew and its time to

wake up

in the woods

these days i feel like

im all alone

and next year

i'll get a big big room

biggest room on campus

more space to be alone

and next year 

i'll be lsat prepping

and application writing

and internship begging

in a corner of central library

all alone

and after its all said and done

tassel turned to the right

i'll pack up and head out

to the real world

whatever that is

all alone

and i know that everyone says

that we'll be together

every step of the way

but here i am

in the middle of the woods

forgot my way in

dont know my way out

and im

all alone

a title-less work.

so im sitting here in rand

waiting for probably the 3,000th meeting

this calendar year

i wish i was exaggerating

people watching and shit.

yo, i'm finished

i feel myself watching the

people who i actually gave a damn about

with a detached reservation

and watching the people

that i would have given

the shirt off my back for

off from a distance

with no remorse, 

with no remorse

i feel like im drowning

in a whirpool of worries and

lack of empathy and sympathy

that i've concocted 

and i'm too tired

and too frustrated

to figure out how to swim

with my head above water

victim services.

so today in my prison life class

we had special guests from

the victim services of the TDOC

who discussed the other end

of the spectrum

everyone forgets about the person

who was killed

and the people who

loved them and focus on

the murderers and perpetrators

but luckily, TDOC offers

an amazing array of victim services

to give them closure

and a means to heal and try to move on

and while i was in class listening

and taking notes i couldnt help

but wonder

who is available

to give me closure

and counsel me and give me

a reason to move on

a reason to believe

but what if the perpetrator

who beats me up

who tears me down

who leaves my self esteem in

pieces on the ground

is no one 

but me

kiki/living for the city.

so i spent my spring break in jacksonville, florida

alternative spring break 2009

in charge of 10 other souls, including my own

trying to make a

semblance of a difference

in this world

[with a hell of a recession,

as my mother likes to point out]

and we worked at an orphanage

and i fell in love with a little girl named markeisha

kiki

for short

and she took my camera and snapped snapped

amazing pictures and she did cheer jumps

and she smiled wide and she

loved the color pink

just like me

and the first day i came to visit

i was wearing my pink sunglasses

and she asked for a pair

i told her i would bring them

and wednesday she ran up to me

after school with her hannah montana backpack

still attached to her lithe frame and she 

asked did i bring them

i said yes

she jumped up and down

clapped

gave me a big hug

a big kiss

and said she loved me

and oh, she was a diva

from the moment she put those joints on

posing and demanding pictures of her

to be taken

just like me

and the day that we left

knowing that she'd still be in

the orphanage with no one 

to call her own i cried

because i didnt want to tell her

that i was leaving and i would never be back

because that seemed to be

the story of her 6 year old life

and as we drove away i sobbed

and i asked my mom 

if i could adopt her and she asked me

did i have room enough in my towers 2 single

end of discussion

but im pasting a scrapbook

of all the pictures we took over the week

and sending it to her

so that if she ever gets lonely

and thinks that nobody loves her

i won't be there but

i'll be there

and since then, i'm back at vandy

walking around campus in surprisingly

springlike weather

80 degrees 

but still feeling cold and hard

on the inside 

when i walked back to my dorm

i heard a crazy looking old man

with dreads

belting on the top of his lungs

singing

a boy is born in hard time mississippi

Surrounded by four walls that aint so pretty
His parents give him love and affection
To keep him strong moving in the right direction
Living just enough, just enough for the cittaaaaaaaayyyyy

yyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy yeayyyyyyyyyy

and i smiled

for the first real time since i returned back

from spring break

and somehow he gave me comfort

that things may not be 

all that i want

but maybe they're

just enough,

just enough