Scribbles

I write to express, express my emotions from within

waiting until it all boils up inside of me before it overflows,

consuming the paper, I write until the pen, like my eyes,

runs dry and my hand aches, pulsing like my heart

I write words filled with meaning, words filled with none

poetry, they call it, all I see is my misery in scribbles

yet they love it, so much they call it art, art?

this must be my blue period, as i write scribbles

of heartbreak, scribbles of sorrow, scribble, scribble

yet they see beauty, in my anguish, in my thoughts

thoughts i don’t dare say out loud for they lose meaning

meaning they look for, deciphering each line

as if they knew, knew the story behind each word

slowly picking apart my thoughts, dissecting my brain

masterpiece? more like pieces of me splattered

onto an empty page, poetry?, art?. beauty?

No. Scribbles.

-Melanie S.

Fuck Prince Charming

I kept it all to myself until it spilled onto this paper

Never let anyone see the real picture, always had a filter

You were my first shot of liquor and I needed a chaser

You played the victim so well, I thought I was the monster

If there was a movie of my life you would surely win an Oscar

You gave so much bullshit would have thought you were a farmer

But I know a bitch bigger than me and her names karma,

Oh boy you really thought you were a charmer

But we were cliché in every way, star crossed lovers,

Rome, Juliet, with so much to uncover, about the world,

about love and everything in between

High school sweethearts, barely sixteen

Thought I had it all, this is it he’s the one

Sound the wedding bells,

really wished someone would have set off the alarms

Cause you were the devil and I traded my soul

Got consumed into a black hole

Only light I ever saw was in your eyes,

Oh wait that was just the reflection of mine

Fell in love with the class clown, ended up as the punch line

I was stuck in a fairytale of lies until the clock finally struck midnight

So you can keep the glass slipper as a reminder of the old me

Fuck prince charming cause I’m already a queen.

-Melanie S.

Rupi Kaur: Literary Queen

Representation is important. Seeing someone of your color with hair like yours in TV shows, or writing books, ruling countries, doing spoken word poetry. Regardless the occupation, representation is important. Knowing that someone out there looks like you, and faces the challenges you face because of a last name, a hairy arm, a gushy menstrual cycle, means that you’re being represented. Your struggles are shared and you don’t have to suffer alone. This is what I have found in up and coming poet Rupi Kaur. I look up to strong women, from my Bengali mother, my Guinean best friend, to Beyonce. But rarely have I found a woman similar to my age, with the same passion as me, and the same urge to create, until I stumbled upon Rupi Kaur’s existence. She writes! What an understatement. Rupi’s visceral words roll off the tongue and off the page and come alive before your eyes. She is a mystery to me, an open book, and a comforting friend. I see her being talked about, written about, praised, hated, applauded, and I want to be her. I want to have the courage to stand up for things as she does. I aspire to create magic the way she does and to share love and pain the way she does.

Most recently she created Broken English which is an homage to her mother and all mothers out there who are works of art. I was nearly brought to tears watching this for the first time and thinking of my own mother who is putting herself through school, raising a family, and paving her independence. My mother’s broken english has never made me more proud.

I highly recommend you check her out and I hope she is as inspiring to you as she was to me.

Check her out below:

Instagram: https://instagram.com/rupikaur_/

Website: http://www.rupikaur.com

YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC7c1LIe2w-kYfqzXTC7adgw