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So much to tell you. So much to show you.
So many back and forth. So many two way -
Conversations and emotions,
Giving and taking,
Vulnerabilities and experiences,
Sharing and creating;

Yet I find myself holding back words,
Suppressing feelings I have not trusted
for quite a while now.

I am stuck, frozen with anxiety.
Anxiety is a leftover.  I hate leftovers because
I am proud like that.  Anxiety is the PTSD I get
from falling all my life and not noticing until,

I hit the ground face down,
taking you with me and my pride;
for I was so sure
It was you.

My focus was wrong. It was not you.
That **** humbled me like a heart attack,
so I hide in plain sight; making connections
but cautious of the depth so you have an idea of
but not everything. It is for the best,
I tell myself. I have to protect my hurt or
so I thought ‘til you asked the question
‘are you scared on my behalf?’

Hmmmmm, I never thought of it that way.
I guess I am scared on your behalf but,
but if I told you that, then I will be telling too much
and  I cannot;  my shameful pride

would not allow me.  It is ashamed and
can take no more,
especially if it is not you.
I have said too much and I have not said anything.
I have gone back and forth with myself one too many times.
I want to trust what I feel again but first these leftovers;

I have got to dispose. They have got to go.
Anyone know where to  find
a herd of pigs?

©Belema .S.  Ekine
Happy world poetry day!
I kissed a girl with a broken smile;
nothing could come near.
She carved it with a pocket knife;
slit from ear to ear.
And she wears it like her favourite scarf;
it keeps her from the cold.
So I told her its only woven by
her enemies of old.
Finding love is easy.
Finding the right kind is not.
Few get to feel it.
Quite a few get to keep it.
Love is a free gift given.
Getting it right is like winning.
A lottery.
It is not for everyone.
Just the lucky ones.
Better said.
Hash tag the blessed.
For it truly a blessing.
If you ever find it right,
Be wise and persistent.
Keep it winning right.

©Belema .S.  Ekine
a new second/ a new hour/ a new minute
a new day/ a new month/ a new week
a new thought/ a new year/ a new laugh
a new love/ a new joy / a new voice

The past gone,  a new you forms
Fear *******,  faith adorning
Wings keep spreading, East to West
Faint not,  Take flight .....

Time stops not.

                    ©Belema .S.  Ekine
I miss bleeding.
I have not bled in a while.

Not for lack of trying.  Believe me. I
Have scratched and scratched beneath
The surface. Like a bad rash each time.

I come up dry,  not a blood to smear.
It has happened before. More than once actually.

You would think.  By now.  I would know how to deal
With it.  But like conflict,  not one is exactly the same.
You would think.  I.  Would be patient.  This too shall pass.

But don't nobody got time for that. For to bleed is to live.

So I scratch. and I claw. Through this four.  Walled chamber

Till I bleed just enough.  To feed my pen.  To quench this thirst.

©Belema .S.  Ekine
It is a process
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