Pieces

Late night, stagnant after a fight, sitting in the dark and welcoming corner of my closet.
Looked to the ceiling, trying to shake that feeling I used to have the ability to turn off like a faucet.

I used to think this was strength. The length of my endurance. The ability to prosper through adversity.
Pick up the phone to attempt to hear something new. Words that would sooth and give antedote to the viral anguish I’ve mothered, raised and now want so desperately to flee.

A voice says ‘ Your Broken’. Never heard that before.
Never thought that a word could dredge up realities I’ve worked so hard and succesfully to ignore.

‘What’s that?’, I thought, as the concept I fought with all of my subconscious energy.
Who became through strife who they set out to be. As others fumbled throught life with failed strategies? Me.

But I am tackled by my past as my the memories race fast to my once so serene present.
It hurts to think of what I left behind. What once was peace of mind is now a ghost of what I used to represent.

With each acceptance of the unacceptable, I pushed away from the table filled with my milk and honey.
I gave strength to my oppressions and relief to my transgressions then coped by poking holes in my memory.

Goals and aspiration past and love and happiness lasted, But faded with time and laughter. Laughter that masked the tears that longed to accompany my face in sorrow.
Followed by lifting my head in ‘strength’ and stating ‘ I’ll deal with this tomorrow.’

But tomorrow never came and with only myself to blame, my excuses lose all credibility.
There is only one that can rebuild this structure. The one who holds all the pieces, me.

Dad

A father's love is unmistakeable.
The time spent and hours worked irreplacable.
Gave me space to grow and guiadance to live by.
You hurt when I hurt and I think I know why.
Because when you are strong you must have weaknesses;
I must be one of yours.
So you watch me and protect me;
your the one there throughout the years.
You cannot stand your child to hurt;
so you wipe away the tears.
Not with a cloth but with your words,
and your ever present love.
And with the support of faith and family;
I show the same love and guidance to my child.
Just as I was taught she will find the right path.
The man in my future will be a glimpse of a man from my past.
On with the cycle you will never leave my side,
I will carry you in my heart and my life as I give this life a ride.

Paranoid

Your back; you need me.
And are gladly accepted by Love Unconditional.
I ask Why, When, Where did we go wrong.
You reply What? Why? Why do you need to know?
We’re here now.
Trust me; Those familiar words.
Those words that use to set me free.
But now something in my soul wants to cry out;
‘Lord why me’
I check the pockets and the phone rings late at night.
I lose sight of why I really stayed to fight. For our love.
The nerve of him.
The nerve of me; Staying around like I don’t have legs to flee.
Am I a woman found or a woman betrayed?
What does it matter, after all; I stayed.
It just might be that I don’t know what to feel.
Let’s act like nothing happened, and eat another meal.
Something, someone give me a sign.
Is it pain that I’m going through all of this to avoid?
No, I’m just scorned and loved.Yeah, I’m just paranoid

Dream

Senseless fine-as-ness.
The kind of skin tone that would make you think of a dark chocolate Hershey bar.
But can I get it on a hot day?
Let chocolate melt in my mouth and in my hands;
Coat the walls so I can taste the sweetness with my tongue and make it last.
That smile ignites a light in my personal body-melt abyss as I get lost in those eyes.
They are deep, dark brown; That black brown.
Brown surrounded by ivory, and the long lashes of a crybaby.
But he is strong.
I can see the battle scars.
Long healed, but obvious and permanent.
Just like the small chip on his shoulder.
He is strong.
Rock hard body seen through loose clothing.
I want to be his world.
It’s worth this temporary insanity, as I loose all focus.
I am under his spell, buried under my expectations, filled with exaggerations.
Eyes open, mind trapped.
My Dream.