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
Last week I started doing sun salutations again as an incentive to get out of bed once the alarm goes off in the morning without the added pressure to leave the threshold of my bedroom. Yoga helps ease the transition between my (usually) euphoric dream state, and the stressful environment of my reality. I revel in a moment of complete tranquility to set my intention for the day.
This morning I was considering the beliefs of two of my closest friends. One of them is an atheist & another, a pious Christian. Yet, they both receive the same level of comfort from their own knowledge of God. I listened to my friend cry their heart out, and then find solace in a biblical scripture the following morning. The physical remains of the night before lie strewn in the Kleenex across the bedroom floor, but all emotional turmoil had dissipated. Their identity and understanding of the universe are ground in that scripture.
I’ve listened to my other friend express their knowledge of the formation of Earth and how human life came to be. Their solace lies in knowing the true origins of life and being brash enough to accept it in the face of disbelief. Their worth wound around complex hypothesis. Perhaps, the universe expresses God as we wish to accept it to be used as a vessel for attaining peace.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Real love is simple, uncomplicated and unadulterated giving. I’ve spent my whole life trying to get a man to love me by changing myself to suit his needs. I sought unconditional love by giving myself conditions to be loved. I thought, “He must love me because I’m smart. Or, he must love me because my makeup is perfectly applied and my curls are intact.” In my heart, I believed that once these conditions were removed, the love would be also. Many men proved my theories to be true. But, what I didn’t understand was, these men sought my body and lusted after me. I never loved them, nor did they love me.
Love at its core is the act of selfless giving. Giving your all to someone just to see them smile is loving. There is no required reciprocal act because making your lover happy makes you equally happy. Both lovers will do the same for each other when the love is shared between two people, causing their love to grow. Love is indeed an action word that should be displayed through acts of affection, kindness, and giving. There are different ways to express love and the way it is shown to the ‘beloved’ depends entirely on their ‘lover’, but it is most definitely always shown.
My greatest mistake in love was trying to change myself to be worthy of love. This caused my self-worth and self-love to dwindle. Changing myself instead of expressing my love for the person that holds my affection proved to them that I was not worthy of love. I was untrustworthy. If even my love for myself was conditional, how could they love and trust me to love them for who they are? It would be impossible for love to grow between us when I was too afraid to release any love from my being into someone else. My reserves of love were so depleted that I hoarded all ounces of warmth that I possessed.
It was only when I began to love myself, that I became able to trust my body to regenerate love once it had been shared with others, that I was abe to give love freely. I had to fall in love with myself before I was capable of loving anyone else. Once I was comfortable sharing my love, I poured it into a man who I trusted would do the same for me. We fell in love through acts of kindness, affection, honesty and pure intentions. It is love at it’s simplest form.
Falling, falling, falling
drops of my love on you.
running along your skin
dancing over each fear
& all uncertainty.
Deeper, deeper, deeper
penetrating your skin
flowing through your veins
peaceful, tranquil, relief.
Floating, floating, floating
in the streams of your blood.
in polluted sea.
Cleansing, repairing love
healing misplaced grief.
My heart misses you
and my body lusts for your touch.
I know you’re no good for me,
but my instincts are too much.
The way we made love so sensually
and you kissed away my pain so tenderly.
Leaving my knees weak, legs shaking…I couldn’t speak but I felt you
Your love, touch, and safety became my sanctuary.
& it’s so damn hard to rationalize
when the meeting at my thighs lies moist every time I close my eyes and I see your face.
and I float into the comfort of memories of our embrace.
I wonder who can ever replace you, my lover.
via Daily Prompt: Instinct