The words once spoken,
scattered beyond Mediterranean shorelines,
I can feel them like whispers of the wind  
As the sun, the wind, and all the birds carry
Spoken promises in dire need of healing,
And despite my racing thoughts
paralleled to my feet,
telling me to face the other direction,
I still held out my shaking hands,
To put you back together again,
even when my fingers were bleeding

Be gentle with her. She may be a warrior, but every a warrior needs a safe place to retreat. Behind a queen a strong king to keep her centered. A goddess needs a temple to dwell. Yes she can do this alone, but be the reason she doesn’t have to.

Be gentle with her. Be the quiet place that calms her when her mind is restless. Her battles have left wounds and scars, don’t try to mend these wounds, but give her refuge so they can begin to heal. Treat her like the woman she is, but also the woman she wishes to be.

Be gentle with her. Hold her tight and chase away the demons that haunt her dreams. Support her in her life, her journey, her joys and her struggles. Accept her at her worst so you can see her at her best. Be the one who gives her a reason to show all of herself, to unlock parts of herself that have lain dormant.

Be gentle with her. Lead her with actions when she’s tired of leading herself. Command her with your touch and guide her body with pleasure. Claim her with a look and soft whispers of rough things. Give her a space to let go of everything and experience anything. Be gentle with her, when she needs it, and she will cherish you for that.

SP

Thousands.

A fable of freedom and loss is the story that has been told a thousand times. But is that to say that the same words passed between a thousand men a thousand times over a thousand years are worth a thousand times less?

That the meaning is a thousand times lost?
Barely whispers on an open stage.

That if a thousand by a thousand men plant a thousand trees in a thousand meadows the earth would be a thousand by a thousand trees richer, but if a single man were to plant a thousand trees in a thousand meadows the earth would be a one man poorer.

Freedom was a man who never knew his name, he was the man who's story was told over those thousand years and he is the man who is making the earth a thousand by a thousand trees richer.

a word hasn’t been spoken since,
humble abode, you ever seem?
exchanging praises and jolly sins,
with a mouth full of lies
what does that mean?

a thousand apologies more will not
make spoken words unheard

Hello, is there anyone in?
I need to speak to the owner of this house.
You've been messaging me insults and false accusations so, I've come to clear me out.
And I need you to hear me out.

Today, I've come in many capacities.
I don't know if I'm angry but hell yeah, I know I'm not responsible for your atrosities.
I thought it was a misunderstanding but later did I realize that instead of running to your dreams, you're out here standing and keep blaming me for holding you back.

You say I'm responsible for your lack as if I give you the crack; expected me to stack up your scattered pieces, hit yourself and blamed me for the bruises.

Well..

I am LIMITATIONS.
You say I stop you from growing, give you a range and contain your dreams.
I called you names and rendered you blames,
Shower you shames, made you believe it was real and at the end, it all was just dreams.

I am FEAR
I made you believe you can't make it
I Eroded your courage and made you mentally spineless. I hid from you the reality so you just fake it
And your runaways, I can say, they are countless.

It's so hilarious you know
How you make me feel so powerful.
How you allow me to steer your life and for yourself, you feel sorrowful.
You and your associates have made me seemed indispensable, popularizing and throwning me over your kingdoms.

I don't owe you an apology.
I've thousand reasons to laugh you in the face. Knee you in yours ***** and fist your jaws.

WHY? You really want to know why?

Hey ladies, Do you know Ellen Johnson, Macdella Cooper, Oprah Winfrey, Winnie Mandela?

Hey my guys, Do you know, Mahmud Johnson, George Weah, Aliko Dagote, Tony Elumelu, Mark Zuckerberg?

You're not Different from them.
They just made decisions that you refuse to make.

They ignored me so they became great.
They refused to allow me decide what's best for them. They escaped the cages I built, the limits I set, the laws I made and the boundaries I erected.
They looked beyond the present and if you wish to be like them, then it's time that you start to see through their eyes.

It's like I need to start penalizing people for willingly giving me control over their lives and later accussing me for their strives.

Today, I'm here to let you know that, I only take as much as you allow me to.
Destroys as much as you permit to.
Without your mentality, I am nothing. I'm a
Your virus, parasite, I feed on you. I exist only in your mind and I'm nothing without you thinking about me.

Oh!!! I just unleashed my secret.
But I guess you know now right?
So it's up to you to make your life what you want it to be.

It's time to COME OUT
and convince me that you're bigger than my limits.
COME OUT and rewrite your story
COME OUT !!

Trust me, you don't want me here again.
Because, my next visit will be more than just for clarity.

GOOD BYE

Audio File:  https://soundcloud.com/prttybrdpoetry/i-thought-i-could-swim-until-you-stopped-me-from-drowning

in the middle of my silent days
you ran interference through thoughts whose only purpose
was to run interference through
anything good
or possibly good
that made its way into the rotation
of random pain
keeping me rooted firmly
on the backhand of a smile

snapped in place like the snapping of
my bra in the hands of middle school
boys that found it awkward to walk
when my puberty
kick-started theirs

so, 'SNAP'
there goes my dignity in that
seemingly innocent violation
that no one ever calls by name
where silence gives them permission
to make fun of my already mortifying
body changes that
took me from innocent and invisible
and ****** me into the spotlight so no one would notice
the way they were mortified
with their own reactions to my puberty

I hid behind oversized sweaters and sarcasm
never looked a boy in the eye
stopped talking
so maybe I could
pretend I was invisible and happy
or at least not naked
beneath these people who stole from me
without repercussions...

it lingers...

fast forward
through being made painfully aware that a size 10 was massive compared
to all my size 5 friends
but they were 5'2" not almost 5'8"
they still looked like a board
not a pinup girl from old-timey calendars
but fat is fat wherever it happens to land under thin skin
collecting into silent reservoirs
of self-loathing ammunition...

it lingers...

fast forward
through the first time 'no' held no meaning
shocked into silence and tears
still whispering... please...don't
as words were less weapons and more entrapment
where a body betrays in unwanted reactions
used as proof against my truth
or my perception of truth
or...it must be true because if I
really didn't want it...
but fear and panic can garner the same
physical responses as passion
and it would be too many years before I knew that...

it lingers...

fast forward
to the last time I knew I was beautiful
and the only time I ever let a friend
convince me that going home with these guys was ok
she wanted company and
she was my ride
she never did get lucky

I...
got a cracked sternum where his chin held me down
I kept my voice this time
but the music was so loud
my words remained unheard
no still held no meaning
my wrist bruised in his hand
one hand frantically stretching clothes out of the way
while my free hand struggled frantically
to keep those same clothes at my waist
but...
spandex is unkind on so many levels

somewhere in this fight with his
knees bruising my calves into position
he was thoughtful enough to
somehow, someway
utilize a ******, whose wrapper
never made into the trash
I know this as I followed my friend's
gaze first to the shiny torn package
then twist into what looked like pride
and on the way home
before the bruises turned purple
I told her... and she laughed

it lingers...

she said if that were true
and he stopped to put on a ******
why didn't I escape his hold
but his grip never changed
and when he took those 3 seconds
to rip it open with his teeth...
I was trying to wriggle free and keep my shorts up
and scream over music playing way too loud
I couldn't look at her
or show her the bruises when they appeared
I shouldn't have to prove myself to a friend
I lost more than my dignity
on my 21st birthday...

it lingers...

But at least I knew I didn't deserve it...
that time
but if I wasn't pretty or thin or
anything remotely attractive
maybe it would never happen again
but...

fast forward
to wisdom earned and extra curves
but hating oneself never diminishes
without draining that pool of self-loathing

so, fast forward
present-day and my mom's voice mocks my dreams
she always told me that, when they care,
what I look like doesn't matter
but...

she never mentioned what would happen
if I was the one who didn't care
I learned that when I can't see past
my incessant imperfections
that I'd never believe anyone would notice
when I try to drown myself
in that pool of past truths
that my withdrawal into the
abyss of pain
could possibly ever matter
if it doesn't even matter to me
but...

it lingers...

and every time I hide from the world
masking my pain with silence
stepping out of the way trying not to
burden people with my shame and weakness
I still cannot fathom
if when the people that crawl into my skin
ripping my truth into that pool of lies
can't be bothered noticing my silence
searching for a safe-enough distance
then, how could... why would... anyone else

See,
I've grown accustomed to not mattering
to myself
trained into the seeming safety of silence
where I grate my self-esteem
on the very invisibility I had longed for
so many years ago

I care so much
but it never makes sense
when someone cares enough to notice anything I do,
especially when I'm trapped in my own darkness
but to bring it to my attention is so rare
that I find myself absolutely perplexed

I don't know what it's like to be seen
or... I didn't
but...
you saw me
you saw my distance
and tried to understand my pain
you told me I changed
and answered when I asked you
to tell me how

I am invisible
it's how I cope with heartache and broken trust
disappointment and pain
unfortunately, it's also how I cope
with personal joy and
anything that might resemble pride

I feel, but the invisibility...
it lingers...

so, today...
when in the middle of my silent days
or weeks or who knows how long
I've been drowning in the abyss in slow motion...
today, you ran interference through thoughts
whose only purpose
was to run interference through
anything good
or possibly good
that made its way into the rotation
of random pain
keeping me rooted firmly
on the backhand of a smile

your honesty, reflecting the truth that
I'm likely the only one who
actually doesn't notice my own withdrawal into isolation
was as surprising as that first
snapping of my bra
but I found my voice enough
to apologize for the shame I didn't earn
yet so freely project onto everyone
touched by the perception of invisibility
in which I hide
but you saw me
and proved I am not invisible
you cared enough to notice
and...

it lingers