Broken Love

They say it’s better to have loved and lost than not loved at all…

Well I’m calling bullshit on that one.

I don’t think it’s better to have given my all to someone who took it for granted

Only to desire me as long as his dick could stand for it.

Leaving me with a broken heart in my hands

Ripped from my sleeve

I bleed, for you.

I loved for you.

Sacrifice and lonely nights, but I loved.

And now am lost.

Pyromaniac

Stability produces sanity but drains creativity.
I long for the tainted turmoil of relationships past,
We were fire and fire and I burnt out.
The all-consuming chemical, my love for you
combusted when I tasted the flavour of your lips
n felt the linger of your touch tantalize my skin
sending shockwaves of heat through my bloodstream.
A drug coursing through my veins,
I remain intoxicated.
Self-love abated by addiction –
for my drug of choice.

Flames burned wildly in my being ,
emaciating all of what I thought I knew.
Tearing down the walls of my heart,
scorching muscles, nothing left but tar.
Rebuilt myself with the ashes of our love,
Strangely stronger than before.
No longer comfortable in my own home.
I seek the warmth of your being
unseeing fear and consciousness
flying closer to my Sun
unafraid.

An Ode to the Black Woman

Melanin created in the pineal gland;

affirms your place in the universe.

The same molecules within the Earth are inside you,

Black woman, your sameness is ingrained!

Your blood runs, runs

like rivers through mountains,

full of strength.

Your tears, the torrential outpour of your soul.

The darkness of the night in your eyes.

The breaths of a Goddess,

the whispers of the wind throughout the night sky.

 

Sun kisses your skin in the morn’,

filling you with light, positive energy & allowing you to grow,

Elevate to higher levels of consciousness,

Til’ you return unto the Earth;

for out of it were you taken,

This planet is your eternal home.

Black woman, you are nature personified.

For My Grandmother

Your freckles mirror spots in time.
Growing up I called them dots
Unsure of their meaning, seemingly innocuous
But being older I see the same dots on me
Tickling my skin, imagination
Wonders of where they began.
Whenever we stand side by side I see myself in you
In the dots
I see my grandma, her warts, her spots.
You try to hide warts with make up that’s dark.
A cheetah without spots is a mere cat
You without your identifiers, undone.
Lost is our familial lineage
The unique identity in one mark.

Warts grow, expand,
unplanned.
They attributed Edith May’s to cancer
She says; “my God made me this way”
Warts maturing as the mind does
As the heart grows
As do your wings
angel.

WkndLv

What is the speed of love can I be measured the distance and time – or is it weighted?
How long would you wait on this graveyard-heart to reciprocate feelings for you?
I pour into you in attempts to strengthen me –
Logic unfound. Love unbound.
Trying to get you to be strong and I know you can be – possibly for another woman or is it depending on the incumbent my heart
Must I vacate the space that was once occupied by wisdom, fearlessness and the cries of a heart other than your own?
Is my love for you dependent on a depletion of love for those that came before you or those that do not enter during
I am a lover and my love is something I cannot control; it flows through my being freely. I cannot limit the views of my heart to satisfy the ego of your soul.
I cannot contain my love.
I cannot guarantee that my mind will not be hindered by other contenders.
I cannot commit myself to you because a life of restricted love is insanity.
You call me angel but I cannot save you.

A Song of Love

I study your face,
memorizing every freckle
mesmerized by the sharp contours of your jawline
and every hair that frames it so perfectly
the small dimple in your cheek when you smile broadens in the way you reserve for only me.
The ways your eyes soften when we make contact,
yet reflect strength;
a stoic simplicity,
in a simple blink.
Your idiosyncrasies have me falling so deeply in love with you.
Finding a magnitude of detail and desire
in the way your eyes retire from mine when I’ve won a fight,
yet always retrace the lines back to my gaze in a maze of intricacies
until our lips meet gently, ceasing my fantasy.

I memorize the details of your face
in hopes that if we ever part,
these memories will regenerate in my mind.
I revel in every moment that you are mine reminiscing of a time I yearned for a love filled with beauty between the lines.

Playing with Stones

My heart has two homes
One made of glass and one made of stone,
yet I remain incomplete, un-whole
throwing stones at glass
trying to penetrate your perfection,
looking for a crack in your pristine transparency
so I can see a reflection of me.

You are perfect and I am unworthy
dirty, undeserving of your love.
But I stay complacently,
hoping maybe, one day I can be the woman you deserve.
Stringing you along singing the same old song
I cry, I know I’m wrong
I don’t know what to do with your love
I don’t know how to live without your strength.

My heart, a place of stone,
impenetrable, soiled, bruised
every negative adjective I can use
I refuse to force another into its muck
So I’m stuck
halfhearted, half of me is still sitting in another’s arms
with a love that didn’t last.
I don’t know how to let go of the past.

I reach for my stone home
because for its solitude and safety
familiarity I can’t refuse
throwing stones at glass so pure, pristine and perfect
Vulnerable and afraid
stupid and betraying the love of my life
for safety and familiarity.

But the cold stone is all I can relate to,
hardened by the trials of life
I feel at home inside these walls of stone
hiding from my mistakes, my mess, my heartbreak
I need to feel the cold I deserve
the hardening, the pain. I hide the real me in these stone walls
from the glass that exposes the pain.

Transient Angel

u crept upon me unexpectedly n I didn’t know what would come next but I let you in
and I slowly fell in love with you and your being and all you do for me
I felt us connect so much more deeply than I could even imagine
I felt I felt
I felt emotions I cannot verbalize and poetry cannot summarize
never did I surmise that I would be the object of such affection and attention
such caring and love that carried me to another dimension

yes i fell in love with you the same way one catches a butterfly
slowly methodically then all at once
i felt the surge of emotion one night when our minds connected long before our lips did
when we synchronized before our close fell to the floor
i knew it was love when you said you would protect me
when you sacrificed a Boston Creme to see me happy
when you told me of your hopes and dreams i knew that i had never seen anyone more alluring when i saw you naked with your clothes on
i knew that this was something new
i knew I was scared
and I knew i was in love

i didn’t know that you were not mine to love
that your love is something given freely to those you encounter
that your destiny was to save souls in need
i did not know that i had been surrounded by the glow of an angel
and i cannot hold on to the love of one who loves the universe for they will always be growing into someone new
i did not know that the you i thought i knew and needed had already superseded my expectations for us
i did not know that you Source your energy from the Sun and not me so while i waited for us to rise to a higher plane
you had already fled to the next soul
my angel i see your love in the remains of mine for you
in the tears i cry for you
i see your love in the sunsets and in the skies because it was there you taught me how to love myself

Meditations on Love

What does it mean to love?
Is it a noun or is it a verb?
Is it a feeling, anything more than just a word?
For years I mused what the essence of love could possibly mean.
I’ve heard that it can make you feel as royal as the queen
As high as a kite
As if you lie on cloud nine.

I thought love was possession,
But I learned my lesson when the man I thought I loved didn’t respect my discretion.
Love became an interjection to the usual direction of my life, a lesson I was not ready to learn. I became afraid to love.

Love Actions

Falling, falling, falling
drops of my love on you.
Trickling
running along your skin
dancing over each fear
each insecurity
& all uncertainty.

Deeper, deeper, deeper
penetrating your skin
piercing
flowing through your veins
Energizing, blissful
peaceful, tranquil, relief.

Floating, floating, floating
in the streams of your blood.
Swimming
in polluted sea.
Cleansing, repairing love
healing misplaced grief.

The Heart Goes Last

My fingers yearn to touch another,
My lips long for foreign kisses
My skin trembles with the thought
But my heart remains in the past with the safety of you.
I know you’re not good for me,
I move on somewhat regretfully
Intentionally, forcing my mind to love another
Divulge stories of past hurt
Uplift a new man, imagine a new future with a new friend.
But a piece of my heart lies buried inside of a piece of you,
A piece of me I can never regain,
I await the day it rots in your abyss allowing me to continue amidst feelings of you.

“The past is so much safer, because whatever’s in it has already happened. It can’t be changed; so, in a way, there’s nothing to dread.”
― Margaret Atwood, The Heart Goes Last

Wordplay Foreplay

Why don’t you make yourself more of a mystery?
(This is what my mother always says to me.)
As if the curve of my breasts and the depth in my cleavage can equate to the depth of my soul.
As if the space between these double Ds reveal my inner being.

In society, we’ve lost the value of a woman.
It’s like once everyone has seen 2 titties and an ass, they think they’ve seen it all. 🙄
But the stream of consciousness in our minds is so much deeper
So much wetter n sweeter than the wetness that can be felt between our legs.
Instead of caressing, confess your biggest fears.
Divide your hornball tendencies and leave my legs closed.
Open your heart ❤️ instead of your eyes
Elevate your standards instead of lifting me onto your manhood
Then, when you say you love me,
I’ll believe it & reciprocate with a love so pure it can never be tormented by hatred.
Unconditional, spiritual, kindred souls.
A true relationship that penetrates more fiercely than sex.
A true friendship.
Genuine care and affection instead of caressing and sexin
Opening up so many layers of my mind, and penetrating insecurity until you get to the root of every fear
The stain of every tear cried for every man that came before you
Every man that forced themselves into my sacred noni
Loving every flaw, every piece of this brokenness and this broken mess that I am.