The sun evicted itself, let you own its place.
As a welcome home gift, it left it’s rays
it knows you are a girl who needs to be seen
And I, on cloud nine, got front row seats.

Free falling like the shuttle as it orbits the earth
I’m enamored by the beauty you are able to birth
You best mark my words from now until forever
For this is a bond that can never be severed.
.
It was a deadly beating in my heart
As we fell apart.
I was losing all my will
It was like I couldn’t feel.
I numbed it all with other names
But there ain’t hope when there’s pain
Even though you said we’re through
Nobody could ever replace you.
.
I wrote a note with the words
“I really need you back Baby, I can change.”
hung it on a purple string

Three days later you found my body on the floor
With tears, “Why” your only heard implore.
Above you was the string, you noted its existence
O, never waking up is my only repentance.

My Heart’s on a line
Drying the tears that were shed
Time to bring it in.

Again on the line
With a hole I need to mend
Wasn’t loved by him.

I mended the hole,
And now I must keep it dry.
Until the next time.

On the line but whole,
Just waiting for the right guy
To pull it inside.

So I won’t have to
Keep my heart hung on a line
So it can be dried.

Holding onto the rope
     Rope fibers tear at my skin.
I kick my feet and try to hoist myself
      Fatigue weighs me down.
What lies below is nothing but a dark entity
     Waiting to consume
       My
        Heart.

I just want to be
Free
loved
Understood
Accepted
Unafraid

I just want to have
Peace within myself
            within my life
a Husband who will love every aspect of me and enjoy all my love
Happiness
Clarity

I just hope for
Change for the better
Time
Love

I need
*solitude at times
friends
Music
Paper
Writing supplies

Where are the grass stains I must obtain on my white t-shirt to establish my wiliness to “get *****”?
Where are the ****** urges I must purge with ******, lewd, and snide jokes of the opposite ***?   Where is the confidence I must amplify with impulsivity so reason is kept captive somewhere, hidden from consciousness?
Where is my preordained disposition in giving commands to ones not fit for a position of authority?
Where is my masculinity?

Where are the words, long in lettering, that captivate not the attention of comprehension but of curiosity amongst others?
Where are the capabilities of manipulating numbers in a way one performs faster than the standard calculating machine?
Where are the messages I must retain once I completed the reading of a book?
Where is my Intellectuality?

Where is my sense of correlation of colors and patterns, of fabrics, of style?
Where is my aversion to the concept of bruising one’s body for rough play tends to direct in that direction?
Where is the decibel of higher vocals?
Where are the strides taken with more movement ‘round the hips?
Where is my homosexuality?

Where is my ability to manage my tongue in that it is capable of switching spoken words to fit them who cannot understand?
Where my culinary skills in creating edible sources of energy that are saturated in spice and colors?
Where is my Latinity?  


Where are my products of raw originality?
Where are my thought provoking notions held together by a commonality: my mind?
Where are my blueprints, harboring designs for the business I have yet to construct?
Where is my Americanity?


Answer:
Snitched into my fabric,
Welded and wrought into my frame,
Liquefied and pressurized
Revised and ratified
Into me.