new wave thoughts
about me
no more writing
about love
for other people
12:41 and no more
writing about
all the ways my girlfriend
can't love me the
way i love her
before our time
little white men sold
her mind away
cerulean boat trips
from the promise
of emotional security
into the land of
avoidant attachment and
rich dreams of
comfort before falling
and living but
not feeling
everything
how the **** do you
live if you don't feel everything?
i feel the beginning like
18 years of virginity
and broken starts
almost a lots and
never anythings
the middle like
sifting through
oppression and finding
the ******* and the love
intertwined like rice
in braided hair and
messages in old hymns
breaking bread like
whisper-talking through
the bad times
going down on
you parting
your red sea
like moses in heat
your breaths unfolding
like the duality of
old ***** spirtuals
and the interpretation of
dreams
the end like loving you
being nothing of a
choice
born into a
system where black
love isn't enough
i bleed cognac for
you
when midnight
isn't dark enough
to capture
your mind before
it's capture
all the beautiful things
before 12:41 you
left back
in the motherland