my initials are BA. stands for badass

Post College


here's a photo that i took about a year ago.
i was inspired by a friend's recent post and thought it was a cool idea to do.
it's a photo of the reflection of the clouds and the trees on top of water.
not the hardest shot to get, but editing has some ways to go

Here's a poem about my morning~

“the white blinds over the window
cannot cover
the light white ray
of the sun peeping their eyes into the sky

as the sun creeps through the slits of the blinds
crawls onto my dozing face
a familiar finger
slides their slender pinky
across the curve of my neck

my eyelids flap open
slap my black eyebrows
lash back the dirty crust covering them
as they do
i realize
my back sticks to the pad of my navy blue sheets
as if someone super glues me overnight
my forearms feel metal latching them down to the bed
my brown legs
lay limp
my brain cranks all the gears in my head
rushing blood to them
so that they move
but they do not respond to my brain
not even an itch from the black hair on my ash brown skin
can make me move

to the untrained eye
one might see
dirty brown
post college

these feelings
not from the sun
but from that finger
depression’s slender pinky
sliding on my neck
just as the sun shows their face to the world

these feelings
depression’s light
but precise hold on me

i still can’t believe
despite my report card
having black marks forming the word
a gold seal showing “honor’s”
overall and in my major
depression’s tiny finger
feels like this
paralyzes me
entangles me even more within my nautical blue and white bed sheets
transmitting the thought through the touch of these sheets
never to swing my legs over the edge of my bed
to only think of methods to blow out the flame of my candle

but as i lay there
entangled in a blue and white knot
a whisper soars from the hard wood floor
my red, green, yellow skateboard
tells me
they want to feel the sun
heat the shining rocks on their black gripped tape face

my legs start to feel blood
the metal loosens on my arms
i rip my back off the glue of my sheets

my brown hand grabs the edge of my board
shoes magically appear on my feet
after turning the silver latches of my white door
i run outside
throw my board on the floor
the wheels smack the concrete
they spin
my feet float
kiss the top of the black grip tape
i roll down the hill
into the street
where the sun shouts
my heart starts to sing

even if depression from time to time
slides a pinky on my neck
paralyzing me in bed
i know a little thing
self care
in the form of 4 wheels
2 trucks
and a piece of wood
can make me jump
out of the bed sheets of depression
and into the air where the sun gladly catches me

i still can't get my first love out of my head
i'm fortunate to know what i have to do to get out of bed though
i'm fortunate that i have a car that allows me to go to the skatepark
i'm fortunate that art allows me to keep my mind occupied
even if this poem to an extent is about them
i'm glad that i have poetry as a tool to process and reflect
draft 1 is done
i need to cut it down to a page though

Bradley Afroilan