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little dark girl with
kind eyes
when it comes time to
use the knife
I won't flinch and
i won't blame
as I drive along the shore alone
as the palms wave,
the ugly heavy palms,
as the living does not arrive
as the dead do not leave,
i won't blame you,
i will remember the kisses
our lips raw with love
and how you gave me
everything you had
and how I
offered you what was left of
and I will remember your small room
the feel of you
the light in the window
your records
your books
our morning coffee
our noons our nights
our bodies spilled together
the tiny flowing currents
immediate and forever
your leg my leg
your arm my arm
your smile and the warmth
of you
who made me laugh
little dark girl with kind eyes
you have no
knife. the knife is
mine and i won't use it
Fantasia Nicole Nov 2015
When my phone rings I hope it's you
But I know it can't be, because I blocked your number in December
When you pulled out my my heart and discarded it like an old scratched CD
  Jan 2015 Fantasia Nicole
Funny little thing is she,
She laughs at lightning in the storm.
And what most would see as torture,
She inflicts with pride and is not scared.
Her skin is sharp like broken glass,
And through her lover’s skin she tore.

Through her safest home she tore.
Stupid little girl is she.
They try to mend her broken glass
But the edges cause destruction of a storm.
Please don’t run, don’t be scared,
Don’t be a part of her torture.

Running love is her only torture,
Not pain that through her heart tore.
Distance leaves her crying scared,
Unable to control the fear in her.
Maybe she is the rain in the storm,
Shattering passing window glass.

Maybe she doesn’t mind the glass,
She doesn’t think this is torture.
And maybe it’s not a storm,
But a hurricane she tore
Out of her skin. She
Is no longer scared.

The distance does not make her scared.
Her skin is no longer broken glass.
Alive little girl is she.
Nothing more will be her torture.
She doesn’t need the lover she tore.
No longer does she hide from the storm.

Not sunny skies, but no more storm.
Not yet calm, but at least not scared.
Not yet healed, but not torn.
Maybe cracked, but not broken glass.
Some discomfort, but it doesn’t feel like torture.
Strong little girl is she.

Screaming insanely she tore herself out of this storm.
No one will say “she’s gonna lose it”. Because she somehow she is not scared.
It’s a mystery how she fixed her glass, or how she can still tolerate the torture.
  Jan 2015 Fantasia Nicole
I'm always here, beside you,
When will you notice me?
Fantasia Nicole Jan 2015
There is not enough ***** or Xanax to destroy the demons in my mind at 4am
Only you have that power
Fantasia Nicole Jan 2015
My sweet baby, I named you Vanessa for a reason
Because it means butterfly
You are a unique beauty, you give me hope
And like a butterfly, you captivate onlookers
You possess the power to make everyone stop and gaze upon you
That is why I love you, my butterfly
This is not quite a poem, but more of my thoughts
Antidepressants on antidepressants*
I've been so depressed yet you stay majestic
You stand in my flames
They just enlighten your features
I burn more brightly and char at your feet just
Looking into those eyes
What a gorgeous demise
Yet the only way I'd die
Is if you severed all ties
I could live as a picture in your beautiful mind
And every time you remembered me **I'd be fine
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