You think that you were hurting me,
but I promise I was letting you.
I stare at my lies in the face.
They have become invaluable to me;
A presence of being majestic,
Taking over my existence.
They have replaced the person that you’ve decided to spend
your life with,
becoming more important than the relationships that
I have committed to.
Who do I tell that I have fallen in love with
my own destruction?
That continuous disappointments have led me down
the path of being satisfied with self sabotage,
and the only thing that matters is that
I stop denying the fact that it has control over me.
I have amputated your arms from your shoulders
Your legs from your hips
Took away your heart from your chest
and left you with nothing but lies you couldn’t keep up with.
Look up baby
Because I am watching you and not the television screen
Reading you like a book written in sign language
Playing it safe until I know that you’re ready for me
Taking notes of poetry each time you doubt the kind of love you’ve received… The expectation of perfection only pulls me in; my kiss to your lips are laced with flavors of your past sins, I want to drive you crazy so you learn the real meaning of love without boundaries… I do it all to watch you squirm…
NEW ORLEANS, LA- HALLOWEEN, 2015
FLYING AWAY FROM SAN DIEGO
SAN DIEGO IS SO BRIGHT. THE SUN SHINES EVEN WHEN THE RAIN IS FALLING, THE PEOPLE ARE WASTING AWAY INTO SOCIAL MEDIA MADNESS. BUT, I CAN APPRECIATE THE BLESSINGS THAT ARE BEYOND THE WORLDLY MADNESS.
I PUT MY PHONE INTO MY BAG AND LOOK OUTSIDE OF MY PLANE WINDOW…TIME TO SEE BEAUTY, SEE THE UGLY, AND REMINISCE ABOUT THE POWER OF BOTH.
As we rise on the highway 10 towards hotel ste helene, I look at the superdome and feel an immediate sense of sad nostalgia. Just a few years ago there were victims of nature floating across misplaced bodies of water, anonymous in name but at one point someone’s child, parent, sibling. I close my eyes and imagine this place looking like a third war country, torn into bits and pieces with humans lying around and an entire earth of people surrounding them to offer very little assistance. Hotel Katrina and Louisiana, I come to visit you, and I can still feel the pain.
Tragedy feels like a motion picture.
I feel it hurting me, but only temporary… like a scene in a tear jerker movie.
Tomorrow I will wake as if it never happened.
As if yesterday,
I didn’t die from heartbreak.
Today, I lost 20 dollars.
Even better though…
Is that today,
Someone found 20 dollars.
Life is like magic,
And I am the magician.
So, side note:
I sit in my car, right outside of the
Home I am renting. I always sit in my car and think, write about stuff after i get home from work. Always curious about change, I think back on this date exactly one year ago. I wrote something that sent chills down my own spine…here…I’ll post it below:
I didn’t know it before, I’d never seen it before
I knew that it existed, but it was an observation of the person next to me, in front of me,
never inside of me.
I am angry.
I first noticed the signs when small things would well up this burning ball of fire, an immediate need to reach
How do you know that you are living or simply existing? Hoping that your silent screams are heard
loud enough through the speakers of your writings, to share the remedies of both mental and emotional
heartache through the tip of your ink pen?
Reading this freaked me out, because as I sit in the car, I want to write the same exact thing. Same emotion. Some fear, just a different year. Makes me think. How much have I really changed since September of 2014?
Loving me is not an accomplishment,
I am the ugliest form of life,
With shades of grey so dark that Black
Would be envious.
I can’t promise you that I won’t hurt you, or that my heart is pure.
Like it were stabbed
So much damage done.
Forgive me for 2014.
And give me
3 hundred and sixty something
If I were insane i’d think it were you standing over me.
but, I am simply not crazy enough.
I can feel your breathing though, it is short and inanimate,
like the ones you hear in those scary movies.
You were never in my life, nope.
but I can still hear, I can still feel your breathing though.
I wake up angry, every time!
it’s 3 a.m and you are here, but never here…bothering me
I say out loud “Daddy, would you let me sleep?”
ugh, you invade my brain like you are a dictator taking over a Country.
You are never there, not once…when I was looking.
but here you are, I can hear you, in my room- breathing.
You died, but I hear you…you’re still breathing.
Why, why must you leave me twice? Don’t you care about me?
But I am no victim, just moody because I am sleepy.
Dad, I still call you that because you did help create me.
You were so mean too, I remember you always yelling at me!
But now, you say nothing
just breaths late in the night, to remind me
that you, are gone and I can only see you in my dreams, or when I am awake
and the rest of the world is sleeping.
Guess you can’t rest in peace either.
She was a skinny bone jones.
Breasts were like small bites of
Chocolate Drops, long legs
Carried a head so heavy, you’d
Think she’d topple over into
New York City passerbys.
She’d cry of society’s shallow percipience,
Her beauty a curse.
Confessed that she’d secretly fiend
For impressive intellect,
Marveled at talks of civil rights leaders
And black society in retrospect,
“Black people need discipline, that’s why I became a dominatrix”.
She wanted to beat my ass into a passionate
Submission, believed that everyone was a perfect candidate to pay for what her daddy did to her, especially the ones she loved.
she made confessions of her father’s unorthodox stance on family and romance, or rather family romance, since he loved to put his hands in places that only those molested would understand, then she would switch it up and say that she wanted to see welts and marks of pain on the skin covering my spine, it was time for me to pay the price for his crimes, “turns me on to know I’d be the one in control” but she didn’t know, that it was she that was out in the cold, emotionally starving; alone, hoping that the pain she’d cause means she wouldn’t hurt anymore.
Control is a trick
Even for a dominatrix.
Just lost in the world of her own sickness.
Her beating on anyone wouldn’t erase her dad’s willingness
To feed her life like a leech in heat,
Mentally stealing her chance at real happiness.
I let her go not too long after that,
But I sometimes wonder if she’s found
Or someone new to beat her hurt into.