Baskin' In Yo Moonlight- 01/13/2021

Moonlight (Ode to New Moons)

I trusted Malcolm West.

As a brother

As a friend

As a confidante

As a filmmaker

As a student

As a person in the world--whose faults, desires, fears, insecurities and kinks—were all valid because he had found me equally worthy of

Acceptance.

Friendship.

Affirmation.

Encouragement.

Love—

or so I thought.

I thought it was love that brought you to the first film festival I ever won that none of my women friends could find the time to appear for

cause they were busy doing

whatever was more important than my

Acceptance.

Friendship.

Affirmation.

Encouragement.

Love—

or so I felt.

I trusted in the fact that it was love that commented on my pictures, love that was sharing them and strategic congratulations to me for anything

No matter how small and insignificant...

(...I felt.)

"You inspired me to be the higher me"

like a Lauryn Hill song

You cherished pieces of me other “friends” encouraged me to silence:

The folds of me. The darkness. My sexuality.

You made me feel comfortable with you and then I guess all the " love " coerced you to commit such an evil, hateful act of robbery against me, your friend.

I have given you love, understanding and compassion every single day when instead I should have kept it all on a shelf for myself on nights like this one, like every night since July 22.

What’s love got to do with anything anymore...

If love can hurt you then lie in your face about it?

If love will rape you then lie in your face about it?

If love can soothe your worst fears with impressively thought-out lies instead of just admitting that you'd been staring fear in the face with grace the whole time?

You might as well had spit in my face

You might as well had told the truth

But you didn't.

You lied.

But, I'm glad you did.

Cause love does not lie like you lied on Twitter.

Love does not lie like you lied on me.

I remember everything about that night until I can no longer remember a thing.

"I go back to black..."

like an Amy Winehouse song.

Back to my liquor

Back to my cup

Re-tracing steps I can't seem to place...I can't seem to...

to remember it's way too dark in here to see anything, except...

I remember leaving my drink with you.

I remember trusting you to watch it.

I remember you promised you would.

And around 12:43, 45, 48 a.m. eastern standard time, I stumbled into the Johnny's Hideaway bathroom, tired from dancing the night away, tired of being looked at, eager to head home not knowing what waited for me there

But you knew.

And you told the world I did too, except we both know that is a lie.

And I hate liars more than anything else in the world

and now I hate myself because

For 22 years I have lied and covered and repressed

and code-switched and wept

until I washed away anything that wasn't making me

good enough, clean enough, smart enough, "attractive" enough to be bothered

with being bothered

with people and lies and life

For nearly 6 months I have lied and pretended and yelled

and accused and obsessed and starved and lost

and wept

until January 13, 2021

I just couldn't let another day pass without

Explaining that

For 177 days I have let

you live while I died

For 177 days I have let

This lie drag

It has dragged on into eternities; it's so big and wide and long and massive and ugly

I have lied to the world and myself

Pretending to be good while I danced

teetered, twirled, made love

with the verge of death

while I watched black woman after black woman cease to exist

and

in spirit, I ceased with them

because physically and realistically

I wanted to cease to exist

I thought

death must be easy

it must be

cause

I drive my car and contemplate crashing it but don't (why not?)

maddening

I stare at my lover and contemplate walking away but don't (why not?)

saddening

I look over at my friends and see none…and won't...but why not?

abandoning

Cause I thought you drove everything away

Cause I thought you stole everything

Cause I thought you had the power to drive everything I've ever wanted away

But only I hold that grand power

I am the master magician

I am the craftsmen

I am the woman in the mask

I am an abuser too

I beat myself over the head everyday

whip my flat ass and round back

kick and stomp OUT my esteem my love my compassion

with my words with my anger

with my ever present and unforgiving resentment

for myself and what i've done

(what have I done?)

nothing.

I existed.

I lived.

I loved you

as a brother

as a friend

as a confidante

as a student

as a filmmaker

as a person in the world and I was left with

bleeding blue bruises

festering open wounds

bleeding blue bruises

festering open wounds

bleeding blue bruises

festering open wounds

i'd do anything to be another color

than red

and blue all the damn time

(I'd like to be lavender or something that brings peace)

I'd do anything for some peace

but that is not an option because

I have stolen my smile, my laugh, my everything

I have driven away my friends, my climax, my everything

I have given my power away to everything else

but myself

and then I quite literally

lost everything

lost sight of everything

lost the vision

Why did you rape me?

I can’t feel anything

at all

lost the feeling

anymore

except for sometimes

faintly then

vividly

tell me

What did I ever do to you?

I see everything clearly now and

I'm hearing everything differently now

the color red tastes, smells, looks, feels, sounds differently

so different...so...so

Did you hate me all along?

When we were alone in my room or when we went to get food,

did you hate me?

When we applied for apartments together all summer because we had nowhere else to go and nothing else to chase, but this “film shit,"

Did you hate me then too?

It's kinda feeling like it now...

like maybe you hated me all along

It's like

you've got me second guessing everything now

everything and everyone and anything

and everybody and everything and

everyone and anything and everything

that I do

or they do

or he/she/it does

When you helped me shoot for my Only Fans and I ashed the blunt on my titty… were you really even sorry or did it fill you with glee to see me hurting?

Cause Black women are so strong.

You just had to hurt me.

Guess you needed to see that twice.

Except, now you can see it thrice.

“No one’s hurt me more than you”

—like a Lauryn Hill song.

I wish I would’ve shared with you the hate I grew up with for men like you

I wish I would’ve told you I’d prayed for death before ever understanding what death was

I wish I’d told you more than anything else in this world, I’d been searching for love

Real love

Real love

Real love

In my lovers

In my drugs

In my sex

And came back with nothing.

I could’ve saved you time.

But you thought you would get away with stealing

me from me.

But “you can’t have me unless I give me away,”

“Stealing my shit from me don’t make it yours, it make it stolen,”

--like a Ntozake Shange poem

All the colored girls up in my head running round, SCREAMIN' and CARRYIN’ on, ANGRY, PISSed, SPITtin' and CUSSing and CURSINg in my direction

Cause they think I let you get away…

WITH MURDER

They see me

sad, mad, depressed, SUICIDAL

hating life, hating people, hating colors

red, blue, drowning in my blackness and hating myself for it

drowning in my brownness

and hating everything...and everyone...including myself

for what you did to me

and they mad cause they think it’s misdirected…

But It’s not.

It’s not.

It’s not.

It ain’t misdirected at all because

"I loved you on purpose."

"I was open on purpose."

I was vulnerable on purpose.

And I fucking regret it.

I made a huge mistake trusting you.

I made a huge mistake glossing over

All the times

I saw you steal

I made a huge mistake ever thinking

I would be

Any different from-

A thief is a thief.

Malcolm West, you are a thief.

Yet, I’ve given freely to you.

Malcolm West, you are a rapist.

Yet, I’ve “consented” to you.

Malcolm West, you are a con-artist.

And I am a real artist

(and that must’ve been a very painful realization indeed but I thought we were working on it?)

But MOST of all…

Malcolm West, you are a liar,

(And I REALLY REALLY HATE LIARS BUT-

still I don’t wish violence or death on you. )

The un-evolved me simply wishes you rot

But not in a cell cause I still want prisons closed…

And police defunded

Despite…

(sigh...)

***My un-evolved self is stuck in a black woman's plight of wanting to save the black man.***

But FUCK THAT SHIT.

I hope the things you stole stink up the damn place.

damn right.

Cause that’s MY shit.

you can say that shit again.

shit, say it four times.

Cause that’s MY shit.

Cause that’s MY shit.

Cause that’s MY shit.

Cause that’s MY shit.

my shit.

I hope the smell makes your stomach ROT and KNOT AND toss and turn every fucking night and every fucking time you try to “make love” or fuck, I hope you get a sick fucking feeling too like I do TOO

I hope the stench of what you’ve done rises like the morning sun every time you want to ask for favors or the help you deserve or else, speak your mind or call upon a friend like I’ve been terrified to do TOO

I hope you get flashbacks of my vessel lying on my bed, moving with no power button or recollection and it scares the living shit out of you to the point where you’re TOO PUSSY to leave the house or smile or laugh or enjoy anything…just like me TOO

I am in pain, man.

You have really killed who I thought myself to be

past the point of no return.

I now know that death is easy.

And life is difficult.

Trust is difficult.

Love is difficult.

Dying is difficult.

And Death is easy.

So, I hate that I been praying for that day I die for so long cause now God done took me all the way to the white light in order to remind me why that's not my place...yet

I see the light

I see the light

I saw the light

to remind me that I still got so many colors to experience than army green, yellow, red, blue, brown, and blue

or black or even lavender and especially white

(I've had it up to here with white)

but I want colors, Malcolm.

Lots of them.

a lot more colors.

a lot more.

MORE

violet, burnt orange, lime green, sky blue, pussy poppin' pink, purple, indigo, gray, grey, cream, black, plum, magenta, fuchsia, teal, sea green, mint, rose

I want to experience them all.

But, I want to choose them.

(why couldn't you just let me choose?)

(Probably, because I had chosen. I had already denied you on multiple occasions so why wasn't my "no" enough? Why couldn't you hear me? Why weren't you listening? Why aren't I ever loud enough except when I'm busy being a mad black woman?)

I was granted the right by God to choose my own colors, not take the ones the world has thrown on my canvas.

you just can't throw your shit on my canvas, bitch

I won't let your hate kill me, Malcolm

I won't let what you did kill me

I won't

But It doesn't stop the fucking pain

the excruciating

agonizing

poisoning

foot in your gut

shut the fuck up

nobody wants to hear about the bitch who got raped

EVERYBODY got problems

well that just doesn't make sense

(well, duh it's rape, It's never going to make sense)

daily "WELL, WHY WERE YOU DRINKING? WITH HIM? IN A PANDEMIC?

pain

and

I have been slowly decomposing since July 22.

July 22,2020

July 22,2020

July 22,2020

Dying an unknown, broad, general, and surprisingly painful death…

(and it's been fun)

(BUT NOT REALLY)

Driving away everything that is living or good or nice or sweet or thoughtful or caring or loving or—

(it's been great fun)

(BUT NOT FUCKING REALLY)

OR NICE OR SWEET OR WARM OR BEAUTIFUL OR LOVELY OR WONDERFUL OR NICE OR FOREIGN OR DIFFERENT OR RISKY OR NEW OR GOOD or DESERVED

I think I WAS having WAAAAYYYYY too much fun, MALCOLM.

Cause NOW I’m TOO DAMN paranoid that someone might rob me again.

too damn paranoid

too damn paranoid

to exist like I did in the world before

I LOOK OVER MY SHOULDER THREE TIMES NOW even THOUGH,

I was robbed before you already,

I was robbed before you already

I was robbed before you already

I was robbed before you already

I LOCK MY DOORS THREE TIMES WHEN ANYONE PASSES BY

Cause I'm scared some nigga, honky, horny, he-man woman hater is going to--

Malcolm West, did you know you were NOT my first by any means?

Malcolm West ,

You were NOT my first

You were NOT my first

You were NOT my first

Malcolm West,

You weren’t even my first “friend”

You weren’t even my first “friend”

You weren’t even my first “friend”

Malcolm West,

YOU WEREN'T EVEN THE FIRST I TRUSTED

Malcolm West,

You are not special.

M*lcolm W*st,

YOU ARE NOT SPECIAL

YOU ARE NOT SPECIAL

YOU ARE NOT SPECIAL

M*lcolm W*st,

There was Mr. Willis who touched me inappropriately and said let’s keep this between us and I did ‘til he died

AND I DID...

May he rot in peace

And there was Braxton Horne(y)-Lee on OOVOO, and I was so young and STUPID and just wanted some attention

THE MANIPULATION OH GOD

ANY attention please (ew)

And Nathanael Williams who consent-lessly took off the condom and when I realized it I asked what he was doing and he just simply said, "I'm not wearing that no more," following up weeks later with, “What we naming the baby?”

(NIGGA WTF DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME)

triggering all my worst fears

AND NIGHTMARES ON TOP OF NIGHTMARES OH THE NIGHTMARES

You really burned me didn't you Nathanael...

You majored in Biology at Morehouse College and they did such a good job

You burned me good

And I lost some more of everything

(The baby's name is C***** I**** R***)

may she rest in peace

And Morriss Biglow III (whose full name, I couldn’t even remember BUT RECENTLY TRIED TO ADD ME ON LINKEDIN) who wouldn’t stop cause he wanted it so bad and I walked around campus butt-hurt for 3 days after...just wishing I said “NO,” a little louder or maybe it had come out sexually??? instead ??? so just forget about it???

BUT I SHOULDN'T HAVE FUCKING FORGOTTEN

I SHOULD'VE SCREAMED IT FROM THE ROOFTOPS

I SHOULD'VE SCALED HERITAGE AND YELLED BLOODY FUCKING MURDER

CAUSE I DIDN'T KNOW IF I LIKED IT HONESTLY

BUT I KNEW IT FUCKING HURT

YOU KNEW IT FUCKING HURT

BUT I WALKED AWAY

I LIMPED AWAY

WITH SOME NEW EXPERIENCE BUT MY ASS HURT NIGGA

and eventually it stopped and

I FORGOT lol

but forgetting isn't healing.

forgetting isn't healing

forgetting isn't healing

forgetting isn't healing

Just like I had forgotten about James "TJ" Springs, the second #30 on Murphy's football team, my track teammate, and another body invited into my home during my spring break trip in 2016 that changed life forever (I've never "gone away" for spring break since).

I was praying for Llewaylyn "LJ" Lanier (who wasn’t there yet, but coming, to my surprise—late and now I hate surprises too, ya know?) and I was wondering how my “friends” in the condo’s main room didn’t hear him beg and plead on a bunk bed to “just put the tip in” for 30-40 minutes straight before I finally gave in and lost my “virginity” forever…

I'll never forget you TJ cause I thought we were friends but maybe I misunderstood.

I’d never forget that day

Cause the next day LJ just knew, except he didn’t.

The story was wrong

And he wasn't focused on getting the right story, just on my admitting that I was a no-good, two-faced cheating whore who couldn't possibly genuine or interested...you know?

(like my mama always affirmed a man would think then took it back)

to affirm what I guess he already had thought of me anyways...except

I couldn't take this one back AND

I didn’t know how to tell him what REALLY happened because my throat chakra wasn’t nearly as developed in 2016 as

it is in 2020

I mean 2021

In 2016

my throat still ached the same

So I got on my knees for LJ

Hoping he'd get on one knee for me

That he, like Colin, could stand up for me

stay down for me

One day, hopefully

But LJ left two weeks later like clockwork

And I played "ANTI," "Lemonade," "Souled Out," and "CTRL" the fuck out

I mean endlessly, timelessly, over and over, on and on

(And now I'm afraid of time and getting lost in it)

and nobody heard my cries or maybe they did on account

that my mama is an eavesdropper

and the house was so small

and I know my hiccups were so loud

but she ain't come to hug me over you, LJ

instead she laid in her bed, probably on her phone

ignoring me and my feelings

like she always do

and I was crying

crying hard and long and forever cause

Now I was fast like my mama always said I was going to be

Right?

Now I'm posting naked pictures online like she always said I would (but it's consensual now)

Right?

Now I'm addicted to marijuana, and paraphanelia, and people who size me up and make me strip to beat my back in like my mama did, and I hoard things because I know people gone be packing up, moving on and leaving anyways...

Right?

I know nobody's listening anyways

Right?

Nobody cares anyways

Nobody cares anyways

Nobody

Right?

Nobody's listening or reading or comprehending or understanding or loving anything anymore (at least not unconditionally) nowadays?

RIGHT?

I just don't know anymore

I don't know anything

Yet I know everything

(I know how y'all made me feel)

(I know I never wanted to feel that way)

Cause I've been

Longing to be heard

Longing to be seen

Longing to be felt

Longing to be received

Longing to be welcomed with open arms

Instead of open mouth

Or open pouch

Or "open your mouth, bitch"

But that's just what your thoughts say cause you're

too pussy

to say It OUT LOUD

instead you say

"Can I get some head"

But I already peeped we not talking about the same kinda head.

See I been

Longing to be loved

Longing to be loved

Longing to be loved

(But this isn't about any of those brothers, friends, wannabelovers...cause the list...)

"It goes on and on. And on. And on."

Like an Erykah Badu song.

This is about you, M*lcolm.

Cause I really thought (for four years there) you actually loved my voice Malcolm but in this New Year of 2021, you decided to remind me in case I had conveniently forgot…that you HATE my voice

you absolutely hate IT

And your only intention has been to silence IT.

When I long for IT to be heard

So, for that

My un-evolved self hopes you ROT

Every day

Every afternoon

And into the night

My un-evolved self hopes you can’t sleep

My un-evolved self hates you

My un-evolved self hates you so damn much

But my un-evolved self also dies tonight

taking all her self-loathing...

With her.

-- I can’t do nothing with it,

Cause see I’m

A lover, not

--A hater

And I’ve always been

--A fighter

--A warrior

--A martyr

And all martyrs have to die for something.

SO, I chose to die for me (because I am love).

For all the sins Christian, I mean "religious" men commit.

I began to die for men...(and women)

Who still don’t understand that God is a woman too.

So, they hate themselves

And me and

ALL THE OTHER COLORED GIRLS

I share this hell/(heaven) called Earth with.

But this here:

is a reminder to all the "strong" black women

and "wounded" black girls blindly and deafly obsessed with getting to the ends of their own rainbows

instead of just appreciating the fact that there is a rainbow at all

and that it came from you.

It sprouted right out of your heart and it grew.

It goes wherever you go

It goes wherever you go

It goes wherever you go

as long as you take it with you.

(FUCK THEM OTHER COLORS, respectfully)

Never forget

That you, miss lady, are the beginning and ending of everything on this planet.

You are the sun and the moon.

You are the light and the darkness at the same damn time.

At the same damn time

At the same damn time

At the same damn time

Like a Future song.

Love is all or nothing.

Love is unconditional.

And sometimes you gotta choose.

You gotta choose

You gotta choose

You gotta choose, love

And, if you're choosing to be love,

to be love's personification

you must accept

The highs (and there are many highs)

and the lows (and there are many lows)

Of your love

Of your heart

Of your mind

Of your body

Of your spirit

Of your soul

In order to heal your soul.

We are here to heal our souls.

We are here to heal our souls.

We are here to heal our souls.

I am healing my soul.

These carefree black boys that hurt our caring black women

You are NOT healing.

You are HURTING.

You are RAPING.

You are STEALING.

You are KILLING.

You are wounding.

These carefree black boys are wounded woMEN.

You cannot forget where you come from any longer.

You cannot forget where you come from any longer.

You cannot forget where you come from any longer.

It's time to wake up.

You will always be reminded by

THEE

Beautiful black girls that transform into women

THEE

Beautiful black girls that blossom into women

THEE

Beautiful black girls that grow in the

SUNlight

OR

the MOONlight...

By nature or nurture.

That you can wound us, yes, but you can not kill us.

You cannot kill me.

Love is infinite.

My love is infinite.

I found out, after all this shit, my love is infinite, still.

And cannot be broken.

Dear Black girl,

Your evolution is not married to any person, any shade, any shape, or and form

You are the creation

And

The Creator.

Dear Black girl,

You are God’s skills personified.

We are God’s gifts personified.

The next time you wonder what God, looks like…just look in the mirror.

You are a dream girl

(Braxton Blue Baker)

With stars in your eyes, emotions, and complexities

You belong in a dream world

(Of your own imagination’s making)

but little black girl,

FIRST, the moon’s shadow deserves to be seen…

yearns to be seen

demands to be seen

or else

see me

see me

see me

But first,

Dear Black women,

you must choose to be the light.

choose me

choose me

choose me

We must choose to be the light.

I chose to be a light in a starry, starry night.

I chose

But first,

wounded black women

you must bask in it.

you must feel the cold

you must feel the light

I feel It

I feel It

I feel it

you must yearn for it

you must demand it

I command It

I command it

I command it

I demand it.

because we do deserve it

after all

we deserve to bask in it all

I'm askin you to stop hidin'

stop hiding your light

stop hiding your light stop hiding your light

in fear of blinding the rainbow

we can create a new rainbow

with new colors

and brighter lights

"All of the Lights"

like a Kanye West song.

I'm asking you to

I'm commanding you to

I'm demanding that you

start baskin' in your moonlight

you can't mask this

I can't mask this

we can't mask this.

We gotta bask in it.

So, let's bask in it.

Bask in It.

-Tré'Jhaun Andrece Dueberry (for now), TR333GA, Tré

This poem is dedicated to Braxton Blue Baker. A sister I never got to extend my arms to, but nonetheless she finds her time to hug me and wipe my tears daily because sisterhood is internal, eternal, and unconditional. Thank you for being the sister I asked for. You gave me something to act on. You gave me a reason to open my mouth. I opened it so wide and got myself into so much, but you remind every day that if I get myself into something, I find my way out again. To finding a way or making one. Thank you for dropping out. Thank you for showing us that we didn't need Clark Atlanta University, Clark Atlanta University needed us. I love you, Braxton. In heaven and our hearts 444eva XOXO