I do not like this phase of a heart break.

When you purposely avoid love songs,
Or sometimes you play them just to make yourself feel like your hearts still pounding.

When the person you loved and hid from every waking soul is brought into a conversation.
Or when he isn't.

When you see other lovers who have made it years without the cruel hand of fate ripping their love from them.
Or when you see they haven't.

When you notice him writing you smaller, casual messages when they use to be breathtaking and beautiful.
Or when he doesn't write at all.

When I ask you if I am pushing you away and you say no.

"Alright, happy birthday! Text me later tonight?"

"Will do"

When every hidden goodbye ends with those two words. And my broken, belittled heart.

(i. r.)

you saw me,
dissolved and broken,

and loved me still.

I used to think knowing God
Was sitting in church pews,
Reciting prayers,
And following rules,
That you could only find Him
In the shaming of the sinful
Controlling your thoughts,
Never questioning anything;
Not your faith,
Not your Pastor,
And certainly not Him.
But church pews tired my eyes,
And reciting prayers didn’t make my heart feel,
Following all the rules was restricting.
Shaming the sinful, well that was easy,
But it doesn’t mean it felt right.
Controlling my thoughts was impossible altogether,
And never questioning anything left me
Panicked
And scared.

But I still found God.

I found him in the city of New Orleans,
In a sea of thousands I never felt more intimate with Him
I saw him staring at me,
In the gleaming eyes of children,
And holding my hand
Through the trials I still face today.
I see him in eyes of the homeless beggars,
Walking on the streets with nothing to eat,
He's in my actions when I help the people
I have always despised.
I feel his presences always,
Filling me with hope and light.
I talk to him with tear stained cheeks
And white knuckles gripping the steering wheel,
And just because it’s not with my hands pressed together
And knees on the ground,
Doesn’t mean it’s nothing.
I have found God,
In places unexpected,
And that has given me light.

I know.
I know the only way you know how to love
Is to control and frighten and scar.
It's okay.
I think we're the same in some ways.
I pray to God every night
That I won't end up like you,
And I'd like to make it clear that you're the one to blame
For a gap in my heart where love should be.
But I love you, still,
Despite your imperfections
And beer bottles
And smoke
And outrage.
I still love you.

You
Freckles That Are Scattered Like Stars
Ancient Ruins
Slow-Healing Wounds
You
Lonely Nighttime
Flowers That Weren’t Forced To Bloom
Flickering Fluorescents
You
Inferno Eyes
Gray Sunsets
Silent Admiration
You
Glow-In-The-Dark Passion
The Color Of Cigarette Smoke
Voices Of The Past
You

I could take the Harlem night
and wrap around you,
Take the neon lights and make a crown,
Take the Lenox Avenue busses,
Taxis, subways,
And for your love song tone their rumble down.
Take Harlem's heartbeat,
Make a drumbeat,
Put it on a record, let it whirl,
And while we listen to it play,
Dance with you till day--
Dance with you, my sweet brown Harlem girl.