my initials are BA. stands for badass
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The Last Semester

2.10.16

"whoever you are" an emulation of Frank Ocean's "Whoever you are"

whoever you are
wherever you exist
like glaring into a mirror, i see resemblance
humxn beings meditating
about different shades of brown
all wanting to be seen, touched, heard, paid attention to
my loved ones mean everything to me now

in the last year or 13, i scream to any divine being
screaming into pillows,
fluff like clouds, gateways to the sleep lord
for some explanation. mercy maybe
for peace of mind to rain like the splashes dropping onto my lola’s land
extending embraces during that humid summer’s air

11 months ago, i met somebody
20 circles around this earth for me. same for her.
we spent that march, and that april together
everyday almost
and on the days we spent together,
time bent over, catching their breath,
but only for so long

For some of the day,
my eyes outlined the pointed gem embedded
below her lips
til it met the gentle curve of her grin
my ears capture the waving pitches of her voice
and even her sparse quiet
lulling my manic mind into cathartic calm: sleep
sleep, sometimes shared like that milkshake at a now closed vegan joint

but by the time I realized
that the quickened throbbing of the visible pounds on the skin above my protruding ribs
meant those two “f” curved lines without a cross
the link between us
the link with the strength of a vine
snapped
depression came
depression did not let me escape this time
no negotiating with the feeling
no control over me

it was my first love, it changed my life
back then, my mind never wandered to the womxn
who wiped the mookat
from my drooping eyes when i awoke
i never reminisced about the songs before I turned 8
the ones i turned up the volume for while sitting with the Wiper on car seats that felt like sheep
i realized they were written in a language
i didn’t understand

i haven’t realized much until now
imagine sitting in the Mystery Machine,
gathering all the clues at a slow pace
i wasn’t in the Mystery Machine
i was on the phone, laying in my bed
the same bed that holds me while my body dissolves a porous mess

i lay there and told my dad how i felt
how my veins now clench like a worm squirming in the harsh ray of the sun
when my eyes now outline
the sag of her grin
how whenever i think of the one who wiped my drooping eyes
nothing in my volcano erupts.
just senseless numbness

frustration and challenge
creeped out the somber prison of my stomach
the skin over my skull tensed like a turtle retreating in its shell
i tensed knowing i could never retract them

his voice massaged my contracting skull
his words, the same as the last time,
tightened the bolts in the latches on my floating feet
he did his best, but my feet still rise like he does before a celebration of the Sunday host
his words cradle me for only so long,
they need rest

it’s taken a long time for me to understand his words
13 years.
i never thought so many years circled by
imagine never solving the mystery.
no, the mystery still goes

i still lie in bed
telling myself it is gonna be fine.
to let go
my hands, restless,
still grasp for something. maybe her

i didn’t try to keep in contact with either of her
i don’t know how
cause i struggle to master myself and my emotions
i still learn now

dear frank ocean. thank you. your words have given so much clarity to me in the past 4 years since my friend first introduced me to your music. 

Bradley AfroilanComment