Always made to believe that just because there was hope in the world, meant love would greet you in everything you did. Frustrated by movies and their flawless execution of hope left you daydreaming and teary-eyed. The next day you will forget the hope the movie gave you and carry on afraid. When you give him the bad news that you're inspired but afraid you anticipate confusion. He understands and nods his head as you explain that you loved and it hurt. It hurt so bad that you seek it and then reject it when you remember what you taught yourself about loving. He is in the middle of my mind and my heart and its unfair. I blame the movie.

Why can I not accept the hand
that you hold out so readily
when I am descending into a black void,
taking with it my incentive to go on?

Why is it I will fight with you,
push you away, and make you feel
as if I no longer want you to stand by my side
when truthfully I want nothing more than for you to stay?

Why, when I am all alone
and I'm longing to reach out
I stop, dead in my tracks to scared
for the rejection I have received too many times?

Why is it that I can lend myself to you
in your times of need so willingly,
knowing the benefits of having someone there,
but I cannot accept this help myself?

Is there something wrong with me,
or is the painful, blackness
just too enticing to some people...
some people like me?

The words rang like blasphemy
through the air,
in an instant sprang back
with garish giddiness.
‘It’s fine!’
‘It’s fine!’
Smiles laced with ***** downed with a spurious solid sobriety.
‘It’s fine!’

It isn’t though,
Is it?
The ***** will tell you that. Nagging like it’s filling a newly burned bruise.
And it’ll be ‘not fine’ when you feel
more love in stagnant conversations
than you did in impetuous kisses.
I’m sure they felt like lightning
during those hours

little children will crawl into bed
with their parents at the time of night
when even graveyards are not awake
the last time i did that
i tried to curl against my mother
i tried to hug her
and she brushed me off
told me to stop squirming
i tried my dad
he just grunted and turned away
furling around himself
impenetrable as a coconut
i got up
and went back to my bed
now cold and lonely
at the time of night
when even dreams
offer you no comfort

getting blind under the shield of
sunglasses

i really became blind
i did everything
i did whatever

imitation of a
sentence

imitation of
movements

imitation of a
warped corner of the mouth

to belong
to belong i
imitated

words
movements
warped corners of dem mouths

for this purpose i
observed people
being themselves

for this purpose i
observed people painting
identities on walls

by the time i
became a mirror

i became a reflection
i became silent

didn't tell 'em wat i be
didn't tell 'em about my creation

i became silent

slick
like mobsters
on islands of self-assurance

dictating
rules

during this stage i
talked to masks in order to
figure out what's behind
dem and dat

i talked to masks in order to
find the location of their
wordcaves

sometimes they reacted:

arrogantly or with
empathy

ain't none in between cause
they condemned and appreciated
quest

they were aware about my reasons
figuring out something

they dealt with it in
various ways

tolerance
acceptance
rejection

this quest
quest for belonging

feel me?

My first love was the sky….
All my eyes could scry were blue on high.
I couldn't stay in the air long enough to feel the sky's love

My second love was the moon…
lunatic heart harpooned by simple smile's boon.
She was surrounded by stars and I don't shine bright enough.

I tried to love the sun….
platitudes shunned and truth shot from love's gun.
Her light shined on tall trees before me so I took my leave.