remember when we first met

how I was so ****** up
and the ways I chose to deal with things

like a child, angry and out of control
rash decisions
drinking
***
cutting

and over these past three years

you turned me inside out
my skin is on the inside
and my heart is on my sleeve

I said I couldn’t imagine my life without you

and now you have forced me to do the unimaginable

it’s bleak, dark, lonely
full of fake smiles and 2 am binges
stomach aches and head aches and back aches, nausea
this weird urge to chop off all my hair and send it to you in a box
along with all your ******* letters with that little three word lie printed on every page
in your small beautiful handwriting

no sleep,
and when sleep happens
I wake up with a tiny speck of disgusting hope that this was all a dream
and it fades back into reality like a dark shadow over my bed

like my makeup smearing into my skin

dying my cheeks black


you’re gone

and you’re never coming back



if my empty chest was a house
I’d burn you to the ground

when I think about even the simplest things

like placing my palm on your warm cheek
or running my fingers through your soft hair

I feel like I’m dying

I feel like I have cancer, it’s infecting my heart and rapidly multiplying

and like a person who knows that they’re dying

all I can do is watch tv

and stare at my phone

and cry in the ******* shower
and cry in the bathroom at work
and cry on the sofa at 1 in the morning

but I can’t eat
and I can’t sleep


because you made those things so much more than simple human needs
you took these mundane every day activities like shoveling food into our mouths

and you made them into these magical moments

where I was truly, and completely

content

I stopped eating
you would tell me to do so
but we’re not talking anymore
and food tastes like ****

sweetness lingers too long on my tongue and turns bitter
textures feel odd, make me gag


so i’ve been eating soup
which I hate
but you love


which is ironic
because I love you the way you love soup
or the way you love snow

or the way you used to love me, and don’t anymore.

It is such an enormous privilege
to have access to fresh, wholesome, healthy food
at my fingertips,
the garden I built at full bloom in
my backyard

fresh spinach basil kale lettuce onions

much like your love is on the tip of my tongue

to eat and drink in the presence of You
is to experience pure pleasure -
                                           pure joy

a bowl of fresh strawberries
         a warm omelette bursting with sweet and spicy aroma

they tell me I should open a restaurant
        they tell me that my cooking is like a meal dipped in gold

but the food never tastes as good
      without you smiling at me

without you holding me in a soft sway
                to the music
                                           in our mouths

     without you
                                     life is bland

when will these cops learn
that their hard work means nothing
when the curtain falls upon Baltimore
and the frightening dark sky washes upon us

when will these people learn that they are powerless
that the system isn't broke,
that we're the ones that are broke.
and that means the system is working

when will these people learn
that black means criminal
and white means

God
When will these people learn that

wait, they can't learn
because the schools have been shut down
but that's okay
'cause the new light rail train was built and
it runs from north minneapolis to the prison

when will they learn that
Freddie Gray is Ferguson
and Mike Brown is Baltimore
and our sons are alive, but they're not living

when will we learn that diversity means nothing
if there is not first liberation
when voices are silenced,
they lose more than their right to speak

when will they realize that
riots
are
justified

my man has a sweet, soft nature
elegant and warm
he is a sea ~
often calm, but the storm is a beautiful and frightful place to be

my man has delicate fingers
they find pleasure inbetween the strands of my hair
against my thighs
behind my neck
underneath my shirt



my man is like the father i never had
stern with me
proud of me
invested in me


my man is my favorite person
when he sleeps he is perfect
when he speaks he is thoughtful
when he gives he is gorgeous
when he is frustrated with me i crumble


my man is devastating
devouring
deeply in love
divergent

my man is righteous
radical
real
ravishing



my man is no one's man
my man is his own love and his own sustenance
he asks me of so little and he gives so much

my man is a contradiction of too good to be true and standing right in front of me