i see his strength as a compliment to my weaknesses/the both of us together a solar flare/an electromagnetic field/a brush fire

he sees my strength as a dimming of his own light/with me blocking the spotlight/the both of us together/a partial eclipse with me the moon/a shade pulled halfway the window/with me the shade

i only cry a little/as i give up/unable to stopper the well spring that is my vibration/and unwilling to even try

i dont like myself of late
i don't like my purple hair or
the texture of my light brown skin
i dont like the way i walk
i dont like the constant pain
or being ****** tired all the time
i dont like this dead *** liver
and ****** up spirit and low vibration
I dont like the ***** that killed me
i dont like that i don't like me

I've concluded that
I dont believe in dyin
sho dont believe
in cryin
at funerals
and lyin
to  faces
that cover the truths
of do not care...
cuz she's just here for
repast and gossip
and he's just here for the widows
chicken and green beans and sweet tea or beer
matronly curves and comfort needin tears
I don't beleeeeeeeve
in dyin or cryin or
lyin faces
that don't see that
Grace is
why we're all still here

All of my mothers have gone...
I'm sure their spirits live on
somewhere
but it feels like not here sometimes,  ya see...
ALL
of my mothers
FEEL gone...even
the ones
that I didn't particularly care for and
right now...
right now...
I really would like
to... maybe...
have at least one'a dem bodies
with fleshy arms and
warm soft bosoms
to pull me in as only
full women with fleshy arms and
warm soft bosoms can-
kiss my forehead and
tell me
no matter HOW it feels in THIS moment Baby
it's gon BE alright...
cuz you come from ME... and
MY strong mama and
HER strong mama and
HER strong mama and
HER strong mama...
so
before it gets too late
before somethin in me breaks...
I'ma wrap my own fleshy arms
around my own full *****
embracin my own self... and
know that I know that I know that
the spirits of all my mothers
even the ones that I didn't particularly care for
are ridin wit me
and I'ma hafta make up my mind
to be
comforted
with that

Cuz I know that a mind is a terrible thing sometimes… the way it can turn on ya…. I sit here tryin not to judge…  but  can’t help but see in the corner of my eye… and oh no… tell myself that I don’t … see her face… all screnched up… lookin like a car done parked on her foot… all screnched up… lookin like she got a helluva Charlie- Horse in her left *** cheek… as she tilts her head and digs in her scalp… diggin like she tryin to get through… to herself… in some newly discovered way… and keep on diggin… and keep on diggin…  til she finally come up with somethin… and right there… in our too crowded office… she… with relish… and with gusto… in slow motion seem like…  deposits her newly found treasure… Into. Her. Mouth… and with a loud and wet POP… then with a satisfied sigh… finishes her memo like this is nothing... no thing at all... a regular occurance… leavin me right now starin straight ahead… writin a poem... and "blessin-the-goddess"glad... that it ain’t me... partakin of… untraditional snacks… cuz life can be rough and cold like sidewalk concrete in winter… and if you hit the wrong way... sidewalk concrete in winter... somethin just might break... and obviously there is a... not so readily obvious problem here… so I decide that… I ain’t one to judge…  just act like I don’t see… and  finish my own **** memo…

Seems my life’s things
Have been disremembered…
Either
Accidently just
Fell away
Or purposely
With focus and enthusiasm
Put away
As things of
Middle Aged People
Sometimes are

Noticed today that
Our room smells like
Old People…
Like dust and
Things sitting
Too long in one place
Reluctantly forgotten
Yet stubbornly retained…
I’ma fix this...
Cuz I’m not there yet…