I thought today about the change
How the man gave me back the four quarters
Thought of how words felt
To me
How they inspired the change
She cried
And when tears would not
Could not suffice…
She wrote
So now,
I write
Because I don’t have enough tears
Because hugs and kisses aren’t enough
Because the nights are long
And the air is wet –
Hot
Because the city blooms
And the heavens can cause claustrophobia
And insight freedom at the same time
I write because he gave it to me
Because there’s no place I’d rather be
Than with pen and my little black book
I write because I see the letters
Then punctuation
Then clumps and masses of thoughts
I write because I can
Because I want to ignite my world and yours
Because Jill became Nikki
Just as I came into my own
Because she perfectly explained what it meant to black…
To me
To be a black woman in Technicolor
To be a black, Technicolor, separated mother of three…
With a beautiful girlfriend
I write because the words won’t stop
I write because I don’t paint
Or draw
Or sew like I want to
Because the floodgate is open
I write because it trickles
Because my mother is strong
I write because my sister mothered me
Because my father is dead
Because I thought my life was ending
Because I saw no other sanity
I write because I have no other choice
And I continue to write because it better articulates my tears
I just want to get “it” out
Completely
I want my heart and soul on everything I touch…
Like His anointing
I continue with the stroke because I love the Lord
And His mercy is continually new
Because there’s no greater friend
No greater love
Than He
Because the veil was ripped
And blood was spilled
Because the angel passed over
I write because the car was repossessed
And my money is tight
And I’m hungry
Because there’s nothing worse than being hungry 
And seeing someone else eat
I write because I’m broken sometimes
And I’m angry with how things are…and how they can be
Because my patience wears thin -- just like this ink
Because I wanna wrap my whole self around this “thing”
This creative niche that’s been carved out
I write because I’m still hungry and people are still eating
And a lotta times the tunnel remains dark
Because the only light I see is still a far way off
I write because this is the only way I can be
Because unlatched, raised windows still look closed…
To me

I write because I want somebody
Anybody
To feel this
Know it
Ingest it...make it their own
Spray paint it graffiti’s way
Like aerosol on white ‘L’ trains
Remember that?
I write because I want you to be pregnant with “it”
The notion of freedom
The anticipation of something greater…
Than this
I write because there’s nothing better than being alone
With my pen 
And little black book
Because my father is dead
And my mother is strong
I write because I can
And there’s no other choice.