i wonder if the doors in the house you grew up in
started slamming themselves to save your father the trouble.
i wonder if you can remember the last time you prayed,
and if you had trouble unfolding your hands.
i wonder if your mother knows
about the collection of hearts you hide in your closet,
i wonder if she could tell mine apart from the rest.
i wonder if your shoes know the reason why
you keep them by the back door and not your bedside.
and sometimes, i wonder
if you ever think about that night when i told you,
you wouldn't need to drink so much if you had me.
but it seems like we only speak when you've got body on your brain,
whiskey in your glass,
your judgement is overcast,
and you know i'm too weak to ignore you.
i learned how to translate your texts
from drunken mess back into english.
i am fluent in apology, but i don't ask you for them anymore.
this is just how it is.
it's not enough for either of us
but ******* it we are not above settling.
so i will ignore her name on your breath,
and you will ignore the fact that this means something to me.
i always thought the first time i kissed you,
it would be on your mouth.
i just wanted to be something warm for you to sink into,
something that could convince you to stay a second night.
but i sneak you out in the early morning,
and you take a piece of my pride with you when you go.
i am left to nurse the hangover from a wine i've never tasted,
wondering how this is possible.
waiting for the next drunk call,
for the next time i get to pretend we are lovers,
the next time i get to live out the fantasy i am most ashamed of.
it is the one in my head where you want me when you're sober too.

- m.f.

****...

It's funny how consecutive letters can bring about inspiration

(I've learned to balance my concentration during this poetic intrapersonal conversation)

its been a minute since I've had my feelings in it

(this **** is never-ending so there is no end to begin it)

I got time in my pocket and there is no better place to spend it

than here on this mic...

don't ask me how I am doing

because I am not fine

so I continue to work through my pain as I cry through my rhymes

and I hate it and love it at the same time

****** me off, yet excites me so

its chocolate covered honey baked ham

served with raw egg yolks

a perfect-disconcerted measure of pleasure and pain

but I can't have the sweet without the salt

cuz it wouldn't taste the same

and the bitter-after taste of its reminder would not be there to sustain

the hard earned lessons that are now burned into the brain

casting these sad images of this life like a video on repeat

and I can't run from my reality no matter how fast I move my feet in retreat

So I use my spoken words to inhale its life into my lungs

I open my heart and tune my ear to the song that is being sung

inside me (God-- can you hear it?!)

This birthing of my desire so rare; so hot that its cooling to the touch

I love how I am powerless to it-- my appetite insatiable and can never get enough

This thing is a love affair....

I don't think I ever loved something so hard that was so physically intangible

but living without Word is most assuredly unmanageable

wanting to abandon it all to be with it is a thought purely fanciful

but its better than living here in this world without feeling -- with out its Love

Word to me you're so healing-- gives me that feeling that keeps me reeling like no one on earth ever has
Lost in my pages left to secure and blanket me

I am comforted by your presence

but the correct combination of itself can be found

unlike the lips of the utterer...

I closed my eyes...

And then his warm hands were felt around my face
He kissed me passionately...

And that made me want to be kept by him.

In this non-existing place-
Where there is no time
I wanted to keep that feelin'
But I never knew we were dreamin...

How did he know where I was?
How'd he know where I lived in my slumber?
I don't know, but I hope he comes… every time…
…Every time I close my eyes

His lips are soft.

His kisses are as light as the flittering butterflies in my belly
My flowers are budding; my lips are swelling
My core contracts
As the rest of my body reacts
At the thought of him filling my void from the back…
Givin’ that *** a smack...

But he still makes passionate love to my body
While he fondles and ***** my mind
He's readin between my lines
His ***** is ink for my pen
I got the juice but he's the gin
His wrath and gentleness is a Holy awakenin'
May my every cell say 'Amen'
Like a kid on the carousel:
Daddy, do it again... (please)…

He makes my water fall
From my ******* ceiling
Down my sugar walls
He takes a taste
He say there's none to waste...
Then he returns to place his beautiful kisses upon my face
Moves knees outta the way
So he can put our puzzle pieces in place

My cheeks twitch and vibrate at the quake of the way we Love Make
Till I clench and he wince till his legs shake...
I love him till he’s weak...
Till he whispers to me: “Open your eyes…”

His presence has caused my wetness
To travel to the inside of these thighs
Now I want to deny
That I am drowning...
In myself....

For I have awakened
Only to find that I’d been dreamin'....

(Friday, December 4, 2009)

The fourth of December
(can't run from what I remember)
My dad called home—
No, my heavenly Father called my dad on the telephone
Ring ring—ring ring--
and he answered, he picked up that phone
He knew who was calling, and he went right on home
Left us alone, on earth in this hell
But the memory of the only father I knew
Causes tears in my eyes to well
Yea, I know that where he is is even better
Than the storms we who are left here are left here to weather
However, I remain with my face towards my angels in the sky
Because I am hardened, and I am lonely, but I have no more tears to cry.

when will I breathe
again?
when will I inhale your scent
lie in your arms
make love to your words
with each action verb
be submerged in your verse
for better or worse
from day till night
and A to Z
when
will
I
breathe...
again?