Age is a timeless prospect.
Youth refolds into a thick mold,
Heavy and demanding
But continuously folding matted knowledge.
A steady, strong suit handed out to each player
When it's true form is the rarest form
A fighter must be as sharp and as slick as a blade,
To be as critical and focused
As a bullet leaving the carrier when aimed
But not as deadly.
There will always be a balance
Nature runs on a cycle that all fumble on
In the arise of dust left behind;
In its presence
Becoming lost is about as natural as the cycle itself -
An obstacle can be overcome
In the way that a challenge lights a fire
All must accept;
Smoke clouds are blinding
Having the urgency to defend
The drive to push harder may as well be lost too.
In the midst of a cloud
A branch could very well be a snake.
depth of the perpetual,
I hold onto the light,
it is not an illusion
but a constant
hard as metal
simultaneously lava soft
no longer boneless,
in a flaccid bowl
Instead I am bowled over
with new power,
my own electric universe
in rushes of orgasmic voltage
that was always waiting for me
to see it
to allow it inside
the tissues of my body
to flow up and through
intestines, muscle, heart and bone
a glowing orb
and snake through me
like a river's glory
leaving the spirit on edge for more
and I am ever grateful
to take that light
spin it into a gift
unwrap it slowly
over me like
pour its liquid-tipped velvet
onto my follicles, sensitive
touching all the right places
its silvery essence
flooding me in
drips and slips
healing all the lost
and lonely places,
hollows of brimmed-over
I have become
a quivering, stellar bud
bursting forth, each day
burning into new
rebirth in quenching torrents
ripe as ovarian silk
inner seeds ready to be flung
unto the earth
into the wilderness
Old clothes hang on my bones that
Feel more mine than ever
Shedding dead weight so I
Won’t be late for my cue to
Walk through the door of opportunity
Excuse me as I strip my skin
Revealing what lies within
Patience is not wearing thin: my
Body is shrinking but my soul is
Expanding past the confines of the
Physical frame I occupy in the meantime.
My father hurt me.
Not emotionally, or verbally, or physically.
But he did push me.
He thrust me forward and higher,
Steered me through brackets of thorny growing pains.
I bled and was scratched,
But am not scarred.
He has constantly molded and guided me,
His hands rough and calloused,
(From all those long years in the kitchen, making and earning bread),
But ever caring.
He gave me so many "father-son" talks,
And charitably called them "man-to-man."
He breathed me into existence,
And his imprint on my soul is indelible.
Though there are places where the treads are different,
And the paths diverge,
One always informs the other.
And while of course we sometimes disagree
On thoughts of who the other should be,
He has taught me what to be,
And I have learned also what not to be--
From him I have taken the best
And behind I have left what is left.
I am proud of who I am,
And as I put these thoughts into words,
I know fully that I am where I am
Not in spite of him--
But because of him.
I am going to shower you with my love,
The way the rain pours on open fields;
Turning untouched lands into abundant gardens.
I will make daisies grow in each and every crack
that have made their home on your body;
Reminding you how beautiful you still are despite the numerous earthquakes that have shaken you and altered your foundation.
Sunflowers will sprout,
Illuminating the darkest parts of you that the world has dimmed throughout the years.
Vines will creep up and weave among your spine, bringing together the pieces that have been shattered from all the times you've been beat down and stepped on like grass.
There will be dandelions to remind you how pleasant it is to let go of some things and in the hurtful process,
Trees shall also rise to keep you rooted.
I apologize if the love and the rain would turn into a storm and destroy a few things in my path.
I am sorry if I cause flood to flow from your eyes, but please be patient with me, as I am with you, as I am as you develop.
For In time, I will regain myself and be the way that I was, showering you with the same love that hasn't changed.
I can't promise light downpour all the time, but I do swear not to drown you out.
Water levels may rise,
But I hope you grow, I hope I make you grow.
They say don't get a lovers name tattooed on your delicate skin. Though I’d rather have my skin stained in ink than on my heart. Faded roses with a one liner left on my kitchen table. Choking on the memory of you. Please have mercy. Your sweet tooth I learned to love has become bitter on my tongue. Open cavity in my chest. Old lips dipped in chocolate to be mistaken to be sweet. I’ve kissed boys like you, how could I not recognize that taste. Melting under your stare. Guarded my heart with every bone I had. Sliced me with your tongue. I sowed every scar you left behind. Your dagger always made me bleed the most. Oh, baby how you turned my mind into a patch of daises just to burn them to ash. I took off for nights searching for myself to only find the reflection of pain you left me. I had mistaken his hungry hands for eyes. Should have known that your harsh fingertips weren't trying to learn my every curve. You tried sucking lust out of my neck. Love was no longer served at this table for two. This table became a table of self-love and growth. Feeding myself with every little last insecurity you left sitting on my plate. I learned how to add flowers to my vase without you. The only thing that was allowed in my mouth that was bitter was my coffee. New lips drenched in peaches. Took the dagger out of my arm and set it on my table to remind me of mistakes. Nourished my garden outside putting lilies out there as daisies no longer pleased me.