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.

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.

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.

Freefallin’

I kept my soul enclosed the fortress of my heart
Behind the brick wall, I’ve built from heart breaks and aches that were thrown my way
But you broke down the walls of my fortress and lit my being on fire.
You entered unwaveringly into the darkness of the abyss that became my love
Removing fossilized remains of lovers past
Melting the ice around my crystallized heart
Allowing me to grow beyond the serenity of my cocoon, and fly to heights I couldn’t fathom before I met you.
Like a child ready to leave her mother’s womb- You
helped me to gestate, fed me the positivity I needed to heal
& stood by my side as I reach maturity.
I bleed through the scars of those that battered my bruised heart as I heal from tender wounds,
Open cuts and fragile veins
I surround my soul with love, relinquishing the fortress that protected her
Opening my heart to the idea of loving another again, I allow my pain and my love to bleed through the cracks of my heart
No longer trapped in my prison, my love flows freely through my being and to those around me
You protect me as I grow without fault or blame,
Emptying my arteries filled with pain, I see my Light.

Late Night Thoughts

My insecurity remains the root of my grief

Why didn’t he love me?

Why couldn’t I be what he needed?

Why wasn’t I – but it doesn’t matter

Because these worries run so deep, not even my shallow lust could drown these oceans

So I drown my pillow in tears, mourning the years I thought that we would be – eternally

and I reminisce on what I thought was mine, crying rivers of tears hoping the salt of my earth will run past the roots of your fears

I detest my weak mind for not being able to break this soul tie

I detest my weak heart for not penetrating this wall you’ve built

 Around your heart, energy, and essence

Leaving my love to drift alone searching for roots.

Lustful Instincts

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

Instinct

The Trouble with Friends

Nice words slurred along waves of jagged intentions penetrate my heart and create bonds, attachment, leaving me vulnerable to social crimes & fallacies.

I thought I found the drugs to heal my wounds when when you became a part of the inner workings of my heart, but addiction led to overdose;

killing this friendship between u & me n leaving me in a state so comatose.

The source of my remedy is now poison to my peace,

i still seek…

…in you…

my source of pain-

you       fill       me       with       darkness.

The side effects of my drug.