I'm waiting for you to tread on my heart like a horse galloping on freshly fallen snow
Beneath that bed of snow is the encased hardened shell of ice that you will form from my heart
This is worse than a ticking time bomb
Or the sight of the last grains of salt falling from an hour glass
Because at least with those, you can see the dangers
You know that when the bomb explodes you will be wrecked, your body will be mangled, your home will be uprooted
Once the hour glass is half empty your time will have ended, your results will be half-assed showing that it's too late, your efforts were fruitless
But with you as you tread on my ice shell of a heart, I do not know what will happen when you finally pierce through
I do not know if the rapture will cause an earthquake beginning from my chest and spreading to my toe and finger tips
I do not know if I will lose the ability to breath seeing as the heart and lungs only live momentarily without each other
I do not know if you will break me and break me and break me as all of the others have done with the magnanimity and force of a thousand bombs all being counted to their last second by a thousand hour glasses
I do not know if your love will penetrate painfully through me like a horse walking on a fresh bed of snow
Only to find holes and holes blanketed with snow to fall into
And disappear.
Jun 22, 2015
Jun 22, 2015 at 1:02 AM UTC
My heart is light
Yet the corners and grooves of its surface are being pulled
And the heaviness is weighing me down
To release
To remove the chains and locks that connected me to you
You will be like a ship far from its harbor to me
I am no longer harboring feelings of sadness or anger, memories, tears, walls and your scent.
That's just it, I am no longer harboring any part of you.
I am an ocean
A deep wide ocean who's waters don't need to be calmed,
Who's engulfing spirit will never need your buoy
For so long I longed for the touch of my waves to your sand
Until I realized, why does the ocean NEED the sand?
To think of the greatness of ocean waters uncontrolled by the hindrance that is the sand, is to bestow the waters of their full potential
To bring grainy feelings into what was once clear.
To avoid the bodies of drowning children, soda-canned-suffocated sea gulls, oil spilling tanks,
because you see,
all of these came from the sand.
And before the sand,
How the Ocean lived with peace because of its deep, wide, engulfing spirit
Jun 1, 2015
Jun 1, 2015 at 10:43 AM UTC
The tenderness as they described it is circumnavigating more than the ******* and the roundness of my protruding *******
Perhaps by tenderness of the breast, what they really mean is tenderness of the soul and the emotions one hurriedly tucks under the crevices of their *****
If one imagines how ******* are anything but tender, with their ferocity of nurturing life and their wholly encompassing nature to weigh and weigh and weigh
Weight carried by a mother,
Shed off by her daughter,
Caressed by the one she lies with in the crevice of her soul and the gap between twin XL bunk beds and walls full of picture of people who no longer weigh her down
It's the feeling of nostalgia and nostalgia feeling this tenderness growing from one's *******
Growth of the ***** of life as a life imagined is destroyed, nullified, kaput.
But most of all she feels nostalgia.
Nostalgia for the people whose tenderness she felt,
Nostalgia yes for her brother and grandmother cloaked in love around her neck like crystals from an iridescent silver clasp
Jun 1, 2015
Jun 1, 2015 at 10:36 AM UTC
I've forgotten how to feel sadness and I thank God
I've forgotten the tremors you made me feel
And the reverberations of your forced body into mine
I've forgotten my mother's glazed eyes when I told her the three unspeakable words: "I was *****
It all seems like a memory now
Yet I can't hear or taste or read the word ****
They say language breaks down barriers
And in this case it is the barrier to the flood of emotions that stay tightly coiled in a black box in the base of my body
I couldn't tell you whether it's floating along my blood stream
Or scraping the insides of my uvula
All I know is that when this language is learned,
I. WILL. BREAK.
I think I will break.
But then again I have God. And I am okay again.
I can face the day again.
The day God leads me to the steps of the Tower of Babel and I reach the highest point of my gloom
Let's pray I'll be able to bear it.
Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 10:33 PM UTC
This is the story of a Foolish Fledgling
I feel the silent vibration of pain and remorse tracing my ribs to my navel and swooping to encompass the silence that lingers over my mouth
This emptiness that I am feeling was because you felt grief
Because at one point I remember you and I
Well, we were inseparable, we were one
How did we let this come so far?
Or rather how did I let the cage that held our two harmoniously beating hearts shatter and break, letting the birds of rage and anger and animosity and fear and anger and anger and anger, free?
But I wouldn't say they were free because the heavy locks that weigh down my heart now, show me that perhaps the birds are cascading down, so close to death
And that is why I am silent
Because we came this close to losing each other
This close to killing the love we once had for each other
The love I still have for you now
And for so long I was convinced that you no longer cared for me
I felt you no longer could see the greatness you had once seen in me
If I flew, you would always find error in how close I flew to the sun
Always chastising me and warning that the sun would burn me
Yet to me the sun is what felt good, what made me feel beautiful
For the sun, unlike you, illuminated my feathers and helped me see the strength in my wings
But as I fell, I fell far away from you.
Today you gave up and said you were ready to push me away
And only provide me with the seeds that would nourish my weak body
When all I yearned for was your embrace once again in the nest of your heart that I had called home.
As I fell, it was only until then, when you were no longer willing to catch me, that I realized that you had been there all this time ready to catch me
Ready to embrace me into your nest but I had pushed you away
I flew to the sun and you tried you tried you tried
To call your fledgling back into your arms
And foolishly I flew directly towards the sun who scorched my wings and only led me further away from you
And as I sit here close to the bottom of the pit
With wings broken
Heart recoiled from yours
I long once again for the nest that was your heart.
I long for me when I was easy and simple and only fed from the worms that you gave me
When I did not go out into the world to search for my own
Foolishly, oh so foolishly.
As I crawl back towards the cage
The cage that locked in our hearts together
Away from the world and its temptations, away from the scorching sun,
I pray that my minor pecks at your nest do not go unanswered
For I am sorry I am sorry I am sorry
For there is no love like the one I once knew before I broke this cage
I long to be nestled in your love.
Aug 21, 2014
Aug 21, 2014 at 3:08 AM UTC
The reflection that looks back at me isn't mine
I see a girl with wiry black hair
It's not mine, I bought it at a weave shop.
The lines that bend around my hips and under my stomach, well they're not mine, they didn't belong to me two or three years ago when things were safe and food wasn't made for comfort.
I see heavy bags anchoring fatigue and lost nights of restless searching for connection and dependence lining my eyes much like the kohl that circles my eyelashes. Well those I got from the beauty store and in the former situation, the LACK of the beauty store.
I hide myself in makeup as I search for attention. The attention of the personified "it" girl.
The reflection I see is of the wanna be "it" girl.
Instead the only thing that's mine, is my imperfect perfectness, or so I have failed to see it.
Jul 23, 2014
Jul 23, 2014 at 12:32 PM UTC
When I see your smile
The lips that curl back to reveal those perfectly shaped crescent whites
My soul reverberates
I can't stop looking at you from jawline until my eyes scale up to your beautiful brown eyes where we meet once again
I'm speechless
My hands entangled in the beautifully locked mane that is your hair
And our legs intertwined like trees just gathering their branches
You see you and I
After every visit
Every time your body lovingly caresses mine
Every laugh
And every story
We grow our tree not on our backs but from my feet upwards until the day the leaves will ascend from my heart and I will say "I do"
You see you and I, we are little seedlings just awaiting to bud
You planted the first seed with your calm demeanor, your kisses grew a branch, but once I knew you, I finally saw that we were growing a tree
Oh how I will continue to water your branches
Jul 6, 2014
Jul 6, 2014 at 5:48 PM UTC
I'm in my bed half warm with the other half as cold as this solemnity you've left me in
I have one leg wrapped around the sheets where you formally lied and the other hanging like the pieces of my mangled heart
Struggling to maintain equilibrium or tumble past sheets of broken lies into the crevice of my untold truths right under my bed
The rain pours as if forcing itself down my rib cage to remind me that I'm alive despite my mangled body in it's contorted position without it's straightener of you
The rain it pours yet I can't hear it
I hear the silence
And I feel you once again feeling my skin from hip bone to the depth of the rivers inside me
Running your fingers on my African canvas with your Southern confederate rakes and flags etching yourself onto me
Leaving me scarred
Until every time I look down at me, I see you
Oh the irony
The tale of white man leaves his African prey once again.
Jun 24, 2014
Jun 24, 2014 at 12:22 PM UTC
I've had a yearning for gray
The forbidden color, intertwining between the cells of opaque and milky protoplasm
The color consumed me before he had even realized it
That night in the back seat of his car,
My "ebony" thighs and legs wrapped around his pearly waist
I pulled him down,
Past the slavery and the whippings and beatings
He went deeper and saw the faces people gave because of the color of my skin
From my neck down to the Drinking Gourd he kissed, following the path of darkness and fear
He freed me
He accepted me
We were gray, two heaving bodies contrasting like darkness and light
The sun blazed in the moon until the two were intertwined
May 29, 2014
May 29, 2014 at 3:12 PM UTC
These past few days I've felt a solitude that's beautiful
I no longer long for you
The words you said never haunt me, not even slightly
My only reminiscence of you, is that you existed to teach me a lesson
When I hear your name I no longer feel pain,
When mistakenly or unmistakenly I glimpse the last words you wrote to me, I no longer feel the strong chord that connected me to you. The cord that longed for me to text you, call you, feel you.
It feels like a broken telephone. The same game we played when we were five. Remember that?
Miscommunication, broken tales, it all led to a happy ending. Or atleast, I'm happy now.
I've finally disconnected this call.
May 29, 2014
May 29, 2014 at 3:11 PM UTC