You Don't Deserve To Have a Poem Named With Your Initials

 There was a time when I almost feared your cold, big pupils
It began to almost feel strange without you around until it
felt... Normal again

You are a boy that wants pity

Thriving on it and people's lack of understanding of you

I'll tell you, you are no victim of anything in my eyes

- Any bully that ever pushed you into a corner probably had a reason, 

at least I hope for
that smidge of justification

I'll almost never forget how your breath always smelled the same,

like unbrushed teeth and sourness

and your clothes, like sunblock and a gaming store

I did feel bad for you

I picked up on how little normalcy you must've known

How it all unorganically materialize itself around

me is a questionable mistake on my part

You let me into your habits so easily

Apple juice

Papa John's

Wait for me outside the bathroom between classes

Wait for me outside of all of my classes

Ride the same train home with me and
pretend to only know sign language

Ask me what body type
I like on a person and send me a chart of body types
for me to choose from

and let you know

Why did I dismiss these things as normal lonely human habits?

I broke, finally

It only took four semesters and hesitation,

side eyes, faded flirting with no reciprocation, and
threatening to
kill yourself
for me to break

And thanks to you, this will never happen again

And the next person who would attempt
something like such

won't have anywhere near as many chances

Thank you for grabbing hold of
the second chances no one else will ever see 

For being obsessed,
sad,
and pathetic French boy

who thinks he's cool for smoking pot with Black kids

You didn't know that you scratched a
piece of me that will forever be tarnished, right?

You have no idea of so much of me, 
other than my sniffed out vulnerability, huh?

I got to know too much of you that
I almost identified with it

And the next time we encounter, I
promise it will be the last time I'll ever see red again

I will not just cry out my anger

You will be wrecked by something much
worse than your acne 

and there is another side you have

yet to see

~Tina Meeks

Red Rocks

 Hundreds of people are drenched
just after the peek-a-boo of the moonlit sky
We are all glowing

Soggy nachos never sounded so... ew

I'm so happy to be wearing two pairs of pants

and wish I had gloves so I could pass one on and

hold hands with the other to keep warm

~Tina Meeks

I'm Not Sure I Ever Really Knew Her

 

Addictive melancholy

Stained in black rose water

Angel City digests pieces of her

A pot of soup from someone's kitchen

I have made up stories of her

in a diary that stretches the truth.

~Tina Meeks

Vanilla

 

Her vanilla scent lingered on my shoulders like how
it captured me at the beach
Captured me in my wind
My breathing, hard and pushed
We pushed ourselves into the sand
Her vanilla scent called up my nasal passageways

I tried to breathe deeper and
slower to allow myself to seep into the seconds
that raced behind us
I questioned why, before,
I never enjoyed the smell of vanilla much
Today, I sink further into the crevice
that has kept me warm during the loneliest moments

When my breathing becomes shallow
I fall into old habits and laugh to keep from sobbing
Eventually, I wallow, so what's even the point?
A disappointing reality when my own tricks
think they can still trick me into thinking
I'm thinking so deeply in circles and the pain hits home

Melancholy sits on the floor with me at home
that doesn't sit well in my gut
and I let myself go into the same cycle, and thought for just a moment,
I got another whiff of vanilla

~Tina Meeks

I'm on Board the Astrobus

He speaks like he has a thick tongue

Hands never at the hips

Hands, at a ballet

and fluctuating

- I want him to gesture me this way,

as if there is something that his fingertips

just lingering to get me to tingle and giggle

- just look at him

Watch how he feels words

by closing his eyes and accepting vibrations

to tell the stories

and following fingertips on pages

and mistakenly saying words aloud

and playing with dissonance 

~Tina Meeks

9/28/21

 

Delving into an abundance of colors and flowers
feelings are not "just"
can we take each other home?

~Tina Meeks

The Beginning

 Jonathan was the youngest of his friend group
He was also the tallest
and the only black man
His small group played Back Alley Bridge,
a card game that has traveled as far
and wide as you can shuffle a deck

Bill needed one year person to complete the teams
for the game

and what better person than his little sister, Mar?

Mar had an apartment on Gladys Avenue next
to the Catacombs Club

She had two young sons and
their father, under a separate roof

When Bill and Jonathan arrived to play cards
and Mar opened the door,

they all greeted and Jonathan exclaimed,

" Bill, you didn't tell me you had a sister this fine"

They proceeded to play cards and little did anyone know that
that would be the first of many card games
between them and Back Alley Bridge would
continue to travel down the generational line 

~Tina Meeks