You.
You are what once stayed my hand from rage.
You once blocked my lips from every bottle,
with your lips.
You are what once prevented tar from coating my lungs,
and you kept hate from filling my heart.
You once prevented my untimely demise.
You.
You are now every punch I throw and take in return,
You are every ounce of liquor that filters through my kidneys.
You are now every carcinogen I too often inhale,
You still keep my heart from hate,
Because you filled it to bursting with sorrow.
You are what I now follow to my grave.
You.

A beautiful head of hair offered her a drink.
She had to drive home.

High cheekbones and a leather jacket asked her to dance.
She was never a good dancer.

Tall and lean made eyes from across the room.
She turned away.

Friendly and endearing made small talk on the stool next to her.
Weather.
Music.
Occupations.

“So, are you… in a relationship?”
She looked down at her hands.
A white line against bronze skin seared with absence.

“No,” finally,”not anymore.”

I was beautiful once.

No lines creased my face,
No grey streaked my hair;
My eyes were bright,
My voice was loud.

I used to dance;
To sing
And command every ear to listen.

Yes, I was beautiful,
But every fire has to burn away.

There's a secret garden in my mind
Here are the keys
Dreams and nightmares lined with silver
Enter with caution, please

We walked the laurel floral covered fast lanes that were once meant for ships and planes
Lifetime friendships forged over baggage claims

Blessed to live the life live that was once only Pay-Per-View televised
Ive memorized moves made by ghosts that left me mesmerized

This is privileged private property I'll share with you not for publicity
Although this is a part of my recipe to leave a legacy
A high density dose of tranquility
Dream of me Mzanzi
Dream of me 3thirty