RealTalk Poetry • White Girl Hungover

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” Maybe your friends wouldn’t have to cut you off. They wouldn’t hold your wallet hostage. Promising you a drink on every hour.”

You participate in the initial cheers.

Clanking the brim of your red plastic cup against their glasses. You take a picture of the cluster of arms. FILTER: Velcinia. CAPTION: “The night has begun!”

But now – it’s the morning after.

If you could go back, put color on the night, be granted a do-over, go home one-hour earlier, or take one drink back – then maybe you would do things differently.

Maybe you wouldn’t perform your version of the ‘Dougie’ while taking occupancy center stage. Maybe your friends wouldn’t have to cut you off. They wouldn’t hold your wallet hostage. Promising you a drink on every hour.

Maybe you wouldn’t have initiated small talk.

Spending 30-minutes convincing a male by the bar that you’re “dehydrated”. You wouldn’t make contact with the seat of the only unclogged toilet, trying desperately to catch your balance between the cold metal stalls.

Maybe you wouldn’t put on a grin while dodging security and rehearsing your “I just can’t walk in these heels”, cry. You wouldn’t have embraced the satisfaction of screaming “CHUG” in a stranger’s face or challenging a group of high-tolerance frat boys to a Jäger bomb shot battle.

Maybe you wouldn’t have slumbered with a garbage can wrapped within your arms.

A Tylenol and water bottle wouldn’t be bedside, waiting to mask your bad decisions. Leaves wouldn’t cover your body. Evidence of something your can barely recall.

Maybe you wouldn’t be tiptoeing around the sleeping bodies on the ground.

You wouldn’t have a sticky mess beneath your feet or the smell of stale beer teasing your queasy stomach. You wouldn’t be lecturing yourself about your decisions, asking your Uber driver to chime in, on the ride home.

You wouldn’t be white girl hungover.


This image was illustrated in collaboration with Lemon Chicken Por Favor

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RealTalk Poetry • Untouched Places

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Take your steps long
and make your steps smart.

Never let your steps stay
in the place where they start.

Find pavement that’s fresh
and views that are new.

Find a place that will let you
be the YOU that is true!


This image was illustrated in collaboration with Lemon Chicken Por Favor

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RealTalk Poetry • A Life Beyond Sad

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They say my smile’s bigger
since you last made me frown.

They say I sound better
since you last let me down.

I gave you my all,
from my mind to my heart.

I gave you it all,
and you tore it apart.

For the years that I wasted,
I won’t waste a day more.

And my tears,
– they will freeze –
on your cold hardwood floor.

There are no words to be said,
or goodbye’s to be had.

I have to believe there’s a life beyond sad.


This image was illustrated in collaboration with Lemon Chicken Por Favor

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RealTalk Poetry • “You Love Me Too, Right?”

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What is a drug?

A drug is the arms that hold you closely at night.
The soft voice that asks, “and you love me too, right?”

A drug is the ashes you flick from your smoke.
Deep inhales and exhales.
Rough stings from your toke.

A drug is that something you can’t live without.
It’s dangerous.
It’s toxic.
It keeps your love bound to doubts.

But – what is a drug?

Really.

What does it mean?

What makes one labelled “addict,”
while one’s labelled “clean”.

What is a drug and why do SOME come with shame?
Why is one ‘happy’ true, while the other’s man-made?

And so we are told,
of stories and tales,
to keep us from leaving the ‘supposed’ paved trail.

These tales made us think, “steer clear and you’ll live”.
but how’s it possible to live when we have our past to forgive?

Even love itself is a misused vice.
Simply seeking the words, “hey, I think you look nice”.

But they never told us love could ache.
And someone’s words could make us break.

Love and drugs will both bring hurt.
But forever
– the idea –
is an idea in which we flirt.


This image was illustrated in collaboration with Lemon Chicken Por Favor

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RealTalk Poetry • A Mind That’s Unable To Fill

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They tell you “don’t”,
but it doesn’t matter.
You do.

They tell you there’s good
but you don’t think that’s true.

They say you should run
but you just walk away.

They ask you to leave
but you’re anxious to stay.

They tell you it’s wrong but
it just feels so right.

They say it’s impossible,
when it’s right there in sight.

Our minds want what they can’t
and crave what they shouldn’t.

We want and we wait
for things we otherwise wouldn’t.

We’re cursed with a mind
that’s unable to fill.

Yet –
we’re watched and we’re judged
by the strength of our will.


This image was illustrated in collaboration with Lemon Chicken Por Favor

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