11/13/12*
I don't know what I would do if I lost her
I think I would start by retracing the steps she took to find herself
Get to revisit all the places that she's visited to build her character
Find myself in each place she found her calling
Calling back memories to the rims of her eyes
I want to see all the places she's seen
And try to outline them with my corneas
And dilate her thoughts with my pupils
Try to recollect every tear that was fallen and for what reason
In her palms, I want to find my self in the things she found in her palms
What psalms she grazed with her fingertips
Find out what fire sparked sparks in between her snapping fingertips
That tipped her closer to insanity
Find out who she found herself in hands held, but hearts closer than her fingertips
That tipped her closer to be sane
All to the first hand she ever held
Her mother’s.
If I ever lost her, I would find her mother.
And thank her for also giving me a life
Ask her what it feels like to have a daughter that’s the barren of
Laughter, sanctuary, and comfort.
Ask her what it feels like to have a daughter
Whose made so many connections
That brings strangers together with just her smile
Thank her mother for building a home for me too,
*** I never asked her too.
“I found myself in you.”
If I ever lost her…
I would lastly lose myself in her poetry.
Bury myself six feet deep in her journals
And cover myself with her words
Decipher her metaphors line by line
Be engulfed in her personifications
Allude myself to her smiles
Become caved in her hyperboles
And pump my veins with the ink she used to flood pages
I want to lose myself in her notebooks and become stranded in her
Poetry.
Her poetry is something to remember
To be retraced to find again and again.
If I ever lost her, I would find her again and again
In her poetry

It’s kinda pointless
The purpose was clear as its intention
But still, it was kinda pointless
It was like when a kid lets go of his balloon.
The string slowly evaporates from his hand
As he covers his brow looking skyward to the horizon
He let go of his first lover because maybe that would make his wishes come true
Or maybe he let it go so a part of him could touch God.

It was kinda pointless.
Our on and off again two month relationship
Every two months or so I would create every insecurity that my poetic lips could fabricate
Twist and turn on my restless nights in one way street fashion
But those other every two months
Were magical
I could write a million poems about your body if only my hands weren’t too busy touching it
I would memorize the way your footsteps walked home incase I ever needed to find you
And every song on the radio was our love song
But for another two months I let you go officially
And I guess that was kinda pointless
*** now I pointlessly think aimlessly for why I did it
Maybe I just didn’t want to see you evaporate from my hands again
Or maybe it’s *** I thought if I let go of my first lover, my wishes would come true
Or maybe it’s because when I’m kissing you, I feel like I could touch God
And that just scared me

But when a kid lets go of a balloon,
He thinks he’s done with it, but he knows he’s never gonna get it back.
But God, damm it, I want it back.
I want a reason to smile and know I’m smiling for a reason
I want something to hold my wrist, to go on adventures with
Making love with you was never pointless, and no, I don’t regret it.
In fact, it was flawless.
And I’d be skipping for days, waiting to do it again
But the feeling was lost. We let it evaporate from our hands.
We let our emotions escalade and we lost it.
Sacrificed it to a summer’s day
Watched it float into one of God’s crevices
Letting go you, was like letting go of a balloon.
I’m forced to watch it drift away but I never, ever, really saw it pop.

When you let go of a balloon, it kisses the sky.
So I kissed you good-bye in hopes you will reach new heights.

What's worth more, your life or mine?

Is one a purpose undefined?

Do I have less to think and say

on any single given day?

If you're above then who's below?

You've made the claim but do you know?

'Cause how is judgement really passed?

Propelled by truth or moved too fast?

And if you try to pull the reigns

Can you uphold what it sustains?

Or will the mark you tried to make

suspend the lives you put at stake?

"If you love something, let it go. If it comes back to you, its yours forever. If it dosent, then it was never meant to be."
This right here
Is what I think about everyday
Since you've been back
Out of nowhere
Your bright appearance teases a smile
I convinced myself that you'd never come back
Alone and broken
For what seemed like a century
I had no way of knowing
That you missed me
Or even thought about me
And I've wondered about it
About what's going on
On your side of the wall
And so I think about this quote
But I'm scared
That I might be misinterpreting this situation
What if it doesn't mean anything at all
I want to say things to you though
But I find myself in the wrong position
I think
She just missed talking to me
Simple
That's all
But she had to have pulled guts out of somewhere
To start talking to me again
She made that move
What if she's waiting for me to make mine
And what if I make her wait too long
Is there such thing as too long
If its Love
But somewhere inside of me
I think I know that
She doesn't want me back
She just wants someone to talk to
And I love being that person
I get so happy talking to her
It's a confused kind of happy
A happiness that I can't stop
It's unconditional
The thought of trying to step up
To a next level
If there even is one
Is picking my brain apart
It hurts not knowing what to do
I have to figure out something
I don't want to sit back
Small talk is running out
I want to explore your mind
I want to deepen this new start
But I feel like that's not my place
I feel like its your call
I feel insecure about what I do
Ever since that last act
But the only thing I can think of is to go slow
And see what happens
Start out as little as possible
And then inch toward some kind of goal
It's come to a point where I wonder if we'll talk today
And then you text me
For how many days in a row now
And that tells me something
I don't know if that something is true
Maybe I shouldn't think into anything
I always think too much
Stop thinking too much
Just shut the **** up about it

if the curves of my stomach offend
you
i suggest you get the
*******
   of
me
but when this rage comes you speak
so
sof
      t
ly
and wonder why i look at you
like you burned
me but
you don't understand how predecessors of your gender have treated me.
kind words have never been spoken to me
soberly or
without weight behind them
like bartering in a dark corner bed while everyone else sleeps
where i stop being a woman, an entity, and become an unfeeling orifice whose name has suddenly become
                                          baby
because a few kinds words were mumbled against the shell
of my ear
you don't understand
how hands have grabbed me in the dark
and how my own hands have grabbed
only out of desperation
to feel something
you don't understand how hard it is for you to touch me and
for me not to feel lightening hot repulsion
as i lay drunk, ready to sleep.
you don't understand how when people touch my hair
all i can feel are hands curling against my scalp
and the way cold-shaking hands curled around my dress
and the way fear has been etched into the lines of my brain like a map of the city i know so well
like that alley i can't walk down alone at night
or that part of lexington where men shout at me hungrily
or the way stranger's hands sometimes 'slip'
you will never understand the weight of my insecurity because no amount of sweetness you can pour onto me can replace the venom fed to me by the men before you
no matter how 'enough' i may be with you
you will never understand how 'enough' isn't tangible
how beautiful doesn't really feel like a compliment
and how much
i doubt you actually love me