April 7: I try not to remember the morning I drove you to the airport

I try not to remember the morning I drove you to the airport

Somber in both of our hearts about this depart

Your bags and a pan of burnt chocolate brownies in the back seat

We expected this love to last longer than our distance

I have pushed these memories in the far back corners of my mind and hoped that it would erode like smoke 

Mom says for me to tell no one about this experience 

She prays that it is temporary

For weeks I had to read the book of Leviticus to learn what is legitimate  

She told me to swallow my words in front of the family for they will never accept me

If only you could see her face when I told her the truth 

As if I was Judas and sold her home for pieces of gold 

But only if she knew that lying was not the cross I wanted to bear

>You and I will only exist in my notebook

Until it was discovered and then censored

So I don’t speak about you, nor can I write about you

And I have no one to turn to

My sister smacks the bible on my head as her way of knocking some sense into it

Little brother says it does not make a difference 

Father told me I can just forget it

So, I tried my best to black-out the age 17, cause Sunni Patterson knows that 17 year youth are so close to life that it feels like death

Which is what I wish I for all through 2009

I was tired of enduring the pain and pressure of walking on eggs shell at home

While my heart sink into abyss of corrupted acid

Knives calling my name of April 1st

Call it a fools game, but I was ready to walk down the hallway 

Mom asked me to repent

To give myself to God and pray for change, but what happens when you walk off the altar feeling the same?

And now I’m on this stage or you’ve read my page

I ask you not to judge me

Believe me when I say I am scared

I have never stood in front of a crowd before naked

Do not look at me any different 

See the beauty in my scars and the purity in my mistakes

See me as the girl you knew yesterday

Who just wanted to do poetry, speaking existence through my breathe and performance

I ask for you to love me for the days I cannot love myself

I cannot find love in the mirror or the crease of my poetry book

Nor can I it find you

You were gone when I needed you the most

When we parted I sat in my 1994 green Toyota Camry crying

With only 20 minutes on the meter I screamed at the universe to bring us back together

Or at least to keep the feeling of your soft lips up against mines

> I try not to remember that you were my first

You showed me that I could do anything I put my mind to

Like gapping our distance, turning my home into my living hell or bringing in sin into my bedroom

You were not suppose to be a fling, but my future

But even I could not forsee this tragedy

But my Mom called me a lesbian before I could even confess 

She said God revealed it to her in dream

That morning she spoke my testimony and that night I confirmed it

A year later you ask me forgiveness, but little did you know I had already turned the other cheek

I knew you were foolish when you expected me to accept your theory of having two girlfriends

I cut my losses once I was getting threaten for my sexuality while you were home sound asleep

Please do not have pity on me

Do not ask me any questions or comments

Excuse me if my heart’s story is too much

But it needed to exhale cause it has been breathing under water for a while.

As much as I try, I know that my vision is crooked 

Folks catching me stealing glimpse of girls

Muted words turned into fantasies that are not tangible

I am not sure what the future hold

If a shunned sunrise wedding will be become reality or family acceptance

Only time can answer these questions

So for now let’s pretend like this never happened