Stolen somethings.

Stealing something from a place of perfection. If only to build perfect moments. Hands fit inside hands and dreams die like stars. We broke things in each other trying to fix ourselves. He whispered into her mouth, lips fish-like in their puckering. Her eyes were like candy, sweet and sticky, as they clung to him. Every word a promise. Every promise a lie. Things die, you know? And she shook her head as she told him her stories. Pain. And surrendered. And he fed her with lies that were the truth for him, in that perfect moment. Stealing something from paradise, to give her a little peace, seems like that's what she needed. And the break in the beat hit repeat, silence, I mean, Silence, real silence. The kind that follows a lie that no one believes. And he closed his eyes, tired of staring into hers...drip...sticky...drip...silence. The words they didn't say leapt across tables, knocking over plum sauce, causing candles to flicker. This is a tragedy, there must be casualties, someone must die here. Stolen moments knock on eyes pregnant with tears. Hang on to the break in the beat, press repeat and we're back here. In a restaurant where she fell in love and he ran. Told her the kind of stories only a man can, held her hand. Helped her into her coat. And forgot they way she surrendered. And the way her eyes, so much like candy, stuck to his words.

Something Like Phoenixes (just thoughts)

Ok. It’s not perfect. Everything is not what I want it to be. Times are hard, and some days are even harder. I get lonely, I get scared, I worry about the future, I worry about losing my mother who is my entire world, I worry that I won’t be smart enough, driven enough, lucky enough to make my dreams real. I have days when I feel like I’m running out of time, and days when I have too much time, to much space, to think about the things that terrify me most. I worry that for all my beauty and intelligence I’ll die alone or I’ll disappoint myself.

But those are just my fears. They are just fears. Tiny minute things in comparison to all that I am, all that I have overcome, all that I am strong enough to continue to overcome. I have today, I have now, to make the most of. I may not have everything I want but I have most of what I need, sanity, all my limbs, I have family, food to eat, a place to sleep, even if it’s just for now…now is all I need. I’m building, working on the future, making something real. Even if I don’t become the greatest attorney the world has ever seen I’m a black girl from a shabby apartment in Brooklyn who refused to let the storms of life drown me.

There are moments when I feel like I am too tired to keep up the fight, but then I remember Me, I remember Allah, I know that it’s not all on me and I’ve gotten this far, which is more than a lot of others can say. I’ve made it to twenty with most of my heart. And a smile that refuses to be dimmed.

Don’t ever falter. Don’t ever let someone break you down. Don’t ever be overwhelmed by the current situation. And more than anything don’t ever let the hardships of life stop you from seeing the beauty in it. The only time you’ve really lost is when you stop finding the joy in the little things. We gotta laugh, and smile and keep fighting. There is even creation in destruction. We are something like phoenixes rising. And we gotta live like this is our only chance…

For the Lover in You (Broken)

Baby girl with the smile that spans miles. And small worlds.
I see you dancing in hands that collapse in on you.
You never did know how to escape while there was still time, still space.
I see you offering the best of yourself to the worst of these niggas.
Anything to feel....anything real, if only for a moment.
With breast aquiver, you deliver in a timely fashion. Passionate, breathless,
Restless sleep on stained sheets.
He can't feel you like you feel him. He never will.
And maybe you think if he goes deep enough he'll touch your heart....
But that's just the principle of the iceberg in effect in your life,
and these worlds are so temporary,
Small smiles, minute highs, deep sighs, parted thighs, ignored cries
Baby to be broken is to be wise
It means coming to rest on the edge of sunrise and with tears drying in the corner of your eyes,
It means biting back sorrow and seeing through lies baby the lover in you
Simply will not survive at this rate.
This second hand fate you've welcomed into yourself like death,
Sweet surrender, big pretender like if you let him go deep enough he'll keep you
Won't discard you like you've been discarded
But you're no martyr for this.
No poems will be written for the you you killed,
No forgiveness will be had
No apologies will be made
You are making a bed with strangers in the shade
You are making deals with devils and the horns may fade past vision but
You know what this is
You always knew
All that's left is a choice
Stay true? Or give in.
Allow them within. Allow them to take the stars out of your eyes.
Allow them to fuck the song out of your heart...
And maybe if they go deep enough, they'll break the lover in you.

For First Times and Last Times

We are the distance between hello's and goodbyes.
Immeasurable. Commensurate with eternity.
Do you forget how to feel when you have felt too much?
Or when it has been too long?
I have detached myself from these things, intangible but quite destructive.
More potent than waves.
There were stars in your eyes when you kissed me.
Eternities danced in your half smile, staring down at me,
Holding my hopes in your fist.
I know you don't forget, as much as you'd like to.
I smile when I think of you.
And baby for the first time we kissed to the last time it all felt beautiful.
And from the first smile til now I won't forget you.
And for every time I hurt I won't forgive you.
But for the sake of my heart I will move past you.
For first times and last times, and the fact that we have time,
just know, it was all worth it. Every minute.

Father's DAY

It's not usually this intense. The feelings. The anger. It's not usually this obvious.
On a regular day the anger lies beneath the surface, beneath the smile, deep in the heart. Unapparent to the naked eye. I guess being in this close proximity to the source for the first time in a long time has stirred the pot. The barely tamed beast that is my emotions.
Father's Day.
A day to celebrate and venerate the men that gives pieces of themselves to the lives of their offspring. I wrote once of Sunday's and Egyptian musk. How no matter how much time passes, both will always remind me of you, my father. A Jamaican man with a quick smile, charisma and a bop that no one can match. Sunday's because that was the only day you would pick us up when we were little, even though we lived right around the corner. Egyptian musk because it is your favorite scent. Because it is mine.

I won't pretend that I'm fine. In fact, if I were fine I wouldn't be so angry. Or so aware of it. But this rage that I feel is so close, so real, and the culprit is a phonecall away. The only reason that I am still cordial towards my father is so that I can still have a somewhat healthy relationship with the rest of my family. There are so many things that have gone unsaid that need to be said. There are so many changes that will never be made. And what does that leave me? Angry. Angry and suppressing it. Thus, I have no way to truly deal with it, except for occasional rants, and a blog post or two.

The mark that a father, and his negligence can leave on a child is a very real thing. The pain that this mark will cause knows no bounds. I am a beautiful mess. I have trust and connection issues. I often dismiss people and have a very negative perspective on how they will behave. I put nothing past anyone, and expect very little from most. I am a warrior, I am strong, but I bear battle scars that no one can see. And those, quite frankly, are the hardest one's to hide.

Father's Day, to me, is like an anniversary after you are divorced. Nothing more than a reminder of what has failed. I can honestly say that all I feel towards you is negative. I would rather have you gone than have another pollutant in my life. So I guess its just a matter of time before I rid myself of you entirely.

Happy Father's DAY

Because I still dream about you....

I said last time was the last time I would write about you. I said, "fuck it, everybody plays the fool sometimes." I told myself that I was okay with what you did because I have no choice but to be. But the feelings linger. The memories linger. I think of you on train rides and it hurts. Even now.
The reality is that someone had to get hurt. I just don't think I'm okay with it being me. You used me to fill a space that she had left empty. I feel abandoned and lied to. And no I don't want you back because in all honesty I know you have what you want and I am genuinely happy for you. But what remains, these feelings, what am I supposed to do with them? They were created out of pregnant moments and flawed smiles. We spent time together and made memories. We shared laughs and sweetheart, despite my best efforts those don't just go away.
You have moved on as though nothing ever happened. You and her are back together, or at least on the way there and happy. As though she never hurt you, as though it never mattered how hard that first month was. Before I arrived and at least provided a distraction from the feeling of love scorned. I was temporary, baby, and I knew that even then, even as we lay that you loved her. It was my responsibility to protect myself and leave, being that I knew that. I just could not bring myself to leave you alone, as she had. I did not think you deserved that twice. To lose what you could have over something you had already lost just seemed so unfair. So I stayed, and disregarded the detour signs, and tried not to demand more than you could give. I tried to be realistic and pragmatic and keep my hopes on the ground. I knew what it was.
But somewhere along the line I forgot that it was temporary. I forgot it was just a game, and I started playing for keeps. And thats when the signals got crossed. And I don't harbor no malice, I understand that going back to what you knew, what you loved, what made you happy was what you needed to do, for you. Thats what matters in this grand fuckfest, doing whats right for you.You needed to explore that,and I'm glad you found it still there but truly, my dear, what am I supposed to do with these feelings? What now? Should they dissipate? Should I forget you like you seem to have forgotten me?
I guess the reality of all this is that we live and we learn.It's that I should have left it alone when I realized, when I saw her conversations and knew everything was not done being said; when I saw your barely certain smile and knew the shape of things to come. You lied to me, many times, to keep what we had afloat even as you built your escape. And I stayed aboard cus watching you sink by yourself just wasn't in my heart. And darling you did make the wreckage comfortable. And now look at me. A wreck myself, pretending I don't feel those sharp pangs when I see you mention her. I'm not even extended the pleasantry of your voice these days. I should have left you alone. I should not even speak of you until I have found something to do with these feelings. But baby I still dream of you, flaws and all....and I just wonder what I'm supposed to do now.

Trying Again...

As given more than enough time to adequately digest the bullshit served so steadily by your hand I find that I am unfit for most human companionship and therefore retire from rhetoric. That is to say I find the average unappealing, and you, sweetheart, were average. Unique a far as the standard of acceptability goes, but beyond the mundane you are invaluable. Among true gems, you do not shine. Oh but I could not see that. Then again, I had never really seen true gems. That is until I looked at me. I rolled out of a too high bed in a spartan dorm room in Atlanta with a bit of a hangover, the smell of a sweaty stripper still on my skin, and some of my make up from the night before still on. My hair was a mess, I had morning breath and one of my eyes would not open completely. But when it did I saw ME. The Me that had not thought about you in 24 hours and had somehow managed to untattoo the image of you from my eyelids. The me that had moved on....
It was hard. For a long time I was your cheerleader, your mascot, your secretary, your freak and somehow, your friend. I gave the best of myself and saved the worst for myself. I spent may nights in a puddle on my floor wondering why you would not love me. Why you would always hurt me. I even left the state because when near you, I couldn't remember me. I told myself that eventually the day would come when I would wake up and see ME. And love ME. And put ME first. But God knows how distant that possibilty was. I prayed for divine intervention because all else looked impossible.
When The Day came it snuck upon me like old age. I had not noticed the gradual ebbing of sadness, madness and obsession. Rather, my days were gradually being filled with other forms of craziness. But it was me in control this time. I like to think I mastered my heart, but the realist in me knows that is impossible. I merely know that after so much time I healed. And I forgave. Most importantly, I forgave myself. I had to learn the truth about love, without ever tasting the sweetness of it. The way you made me feel was not the shit they described in the love songs...
A year gone and I still sit and listen to your lies. And I still love you. But this time I love you properly and from a disance. I take you with a grain of salt, and devote the best of myself to Me. Because if no one will love me I will. I do not care. I simply cannot care about you and those like you, who always put yourself first. For now I will put me first...
Even now after all the pain I am not done. I am resilent. Isn't that what this game is about? I will ease my mind and smile...the future is bright and I, Me, the lover and the Poet am fine...and I will be ready when its time to try again...