from mahogany
sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet love
i am the vampire’s wife
i wake up
every morning thinking
i know you don’t love me
like you say
you do
daytime hurts my eyes
i should sit down
in the calm darkness
and have a cherry coke and a smile
i should be there for you
make the most of this
downtime
but i no longer want
to participate in this thing
called america
i want to talk more about this
but that means i need
to call out some more
people publicly
i’m not strong enough to do that yet
i can barely take care of myself
i am triggered by everything
around me
i am reminded
of everything
my ancestors lost
in the not-so-distant past
mostly, my heart
just hurts all the time
i am tired of having
to educate my white husband
i just want to scream
at the top of my lungs
all the fucking time
it’s hard to see fairness
in some of the ways
the world plays out
the lack of morality
in this country is astonishing
summer of now
you leave the bones
of peter behind
hands in your pockets
while we skate
to frankie beverly
and maze
we are not northerners
but plagues
from the south
i am once again reduced
to my condolences
summer is being held over
until the sun dies
changed the plan
baldwin refused
to hold anyone’s hand
i like to be awake
before the sun is full
be fucking honest
with yourself
shit’s over, whatever it was
it’s gone for good
your whole world
has been redefined
i am trying to deal
with a lot of feelings rn
that have nothing
to do with you
there's someone outside
doing a side deal
with my husband
for my childhood
i, too, feel like shit
being alive
is a lie
something like the gospel
something like bedroom scripture
my only life experience
is death
suppressive heat
cicadas and someone
driving off in their pickup
with my youth
open your eyes
brother, run fast
justin bieber
with those dreadlocs
and peaches, though
the truth is a bitter pill
not a recreational drug
face it
every ugly
mocking detail
i hate the way
he chats with them
like it's his life
he's giving away
i hate the way
he's made my friends
his friends
the way he talks to b.
like he's known him for years
the way he calls n.
"norm" behind his back
there is no tender wisdom here
it is the year of being alone
i want to make sure
i’m not reinforcing
stereotypes
or profiting off black pain
at a great enough distance
we’re all invisible
happy birthday to me
i am younger
than i have ever been
erica lewis lives in San Francisco. Books include the precipice of jupiter, camera obscura (both collaborations with Mark Stephen Finein), murmur in the inventory, daryl hall is my boyfriend, and mary wants to be a superwoman. She is currently writing the final book in the box set trilogy, mahogany, inspired by the music of Diana Ross & The Supremes. She was born in Cincinnati, Ohio.