I used to like the pain,
now I want anything to numb it.
These days have passed by so quickly,
yet they seem to last so long.
I haven’t talked to you in quite some time now.
Finality has a weird kind of ring to it.
I can’t forget your smile,
but his has got me hooked.
No need for sorry - I’ve forgiven you already.
You’re out of sight, but remain at the edges of my mind.
You rest in regret, while I rest in relief.
I’ll be sure to send my love through silence.
written June 7, 2017.
Sometimes, he would hurt me.
Sometimes, I would like it.
Most times, I didn’t.
And when he would hold me,
it was because he wanted me held captive,
not because he cared.
When I cry, my tears are shed for the younger me,
who had hands in between her legs that didn’t belong there,
who was forced to trade in her childhood for maturation,
and became an adult long before she turned 18.
I don’t want you to wipe my slate clean,
in case you were wondering.
You can’t.
But I was hoping that I could start a new one with you.
I could give you the love that you’ve been craving,
and you could render the kind that I’ve never received.
Can you do that?
Can you hold all of my broken pieces,
careful not to mix them with your own?
Can you cradle my heart without cutting your hands?
Can you carry me when my feet are dragging so heavily,
that they begin to slow yours down too?
We understand each other in ways that our formers never could;
we adore the parts of ourselves that they didn’t want.
Now, we’re presented an opportunity to become the type of people
that we never had.
So, what do you say?
Would you like to meet halfway?
We deserve a “forever” too.
I can’t make you whole,
but I’ll vow to make you better.
Just promise that by the time our ending arrives,
you will have done the same for me.
written March 10, 2017.
You ask me how I did it:
how I made an extremely difficult process look so easy.
You don’t know that it was excruciating from the start,
and that I’m nowhere near finished.
I had to remove the one person I wanted for the rest of my life,
from my life.
I had to detach myself from a part of my soul.
It started with one day, that turned into one week,
which turned into one month,
and before I knew it, I reached half of a year.
I haven’t coped,
I’ve just kept myself busy.
But those moments when I’m alone,
all of the memories rush to my head at once.
I want to tell him that my hands are sore from working such a long shift,
and that I’m coming over for chips and salsa.
I want to tell him all the good news about my day,
and how I’m evolving into the woman we both want me to become.
I may look like I’m okay,
distancing myself from the one I love.
But the truth is, in this sixth month,
I still want him,
just as much as I did on the day I decided to let him go.
written February 2, 2017.
A woman once asked me:
Where did you find him,
and how did you keep him?
My reply was:
We weren’t looking for anything,
but once he met me, he never wanted to leave.
written January 28, 2017.
I said that the last time would be the last time
on countless occasions.
I keep giving and you keep taking,
because you’ll never say no.
You know what I’m worth,
and you know what you’d be missing,
should I truly follow through with leaving you behind.
But you don’t care.
So we play this little game
where I leave the ball in your court,
knowing that it’s really in mine,
as we wait for the clock to run out.
And when it does,
don’t go wondering what happened.
There will be no space or opportunity
to make up for all we could’ve had.
The love is there,
but our intentions are completely different.
You play for ego,
and I play for keeps.
written December 12, 2016.
There was a time when I didn’t want anyone’s arms
around me but my own.
The thought of a man embracing me one moment
just to leave me in the long run, caused me to become reclusive.
Then came you.
When you touched me,
you told a story.
Your hands meeting my skin
served as the segue into my soul.
Every crease, dip and curve
were points for marking.
You kissed my scars and traced my stretch marks.
You knew that my temple was my territory,
but you never made me feel like an object
for wanting to see what was inside.
Looking back,
I’m not resentful.
Tearful, but not resentful.
I miss those moments,
when a tickle turned into love making,
and how you’d hold me through the night.
I’m not mad at you,
because for the first time in my life,
it wasn’t just sex.
You felt me beyond the physical.
You wanted more than just a release.
You poured into me,
and exchanged your love for mine.
written November 8, 2016.
Right now, I am free.
I am not concerned about what we are
or what we aren’t,
but simply what I feel in this very moment.
And in this moment, I feel light.
My laughter stems from the depths of my soul
and spills out into your space.
It intoxicates you.
It coerces you into endless smiles and holding of hands and sloppy kisses.
It enables you to look at me in all of the ways you usually hide.
In this moment, you aren’t working,
and I’m not growing anxious over emails that never come.
We are simply being.
Your energy gravitates toward mine,
and they have a fine time together.
Now I know what it means when they say
“What’s real doesn’t have to be explained.”
written September 9, 2016.
I’m supposed to be studying…
I’m nervous.
I’m scared.
Normally I’d call you and explain why,
but that’s just not an option.
I went from crying to you to crying over you.
I want to tell you that I miss you,
but that’d be a waste of words.
Today I have a final for that really hard class I told you about,
but I’m on the couch typing this poem.
You always do that to me:
Overtake my thoughts.
You invade my emotional space and diminish other things of importance.
I’ve got to get these problems right,
but I wish that I could make things right with you.
And I hope that as I type this,
you’re in your bed looking at the spot I used to lay.
I hope that your arms and legs don’t feel the same
since mine aren’t tangled in between them.
And maybe you feel just as dazed and out of place as I do.
I sure hope so.
And maybe, for the first time, you know what it feels like
to have “the one who got away.”
written August 17, 2016.
I’ve got THC in my lungs
and Hennessy in my heart.
My eyes are wet from wondering if tonight will be our last.
I like it best this way.
I cling to you - a sign that I’m weary.
I kiss you, as if the moments to come will plant us a world apart.
You ask me what’s wrong,
and I respond by stripping down to skin.
Now is not the time to talk.
I close my eyes and whimper as you have your way with me.
You fuck me like you already miss me.
You make love to me like you care.
I grow closer towards my climax as you pick up the pace.
You’re hurting me, but pain is passion after all.
My eyes search yours, and before I open my mouth,
“I love you” filters into my ears.
My lips part in awe,
and in a fraction of a second, my hands are caressing your face
as your kisses smother my cries.
I’m hungry for you.
For the first time ever, you fill me up as you finish,
and a pool of pleasure collects underneath me.
You collapse onto me and your body rests on top of mine.
I savor this newfound splendor,
knowing that we were always a game of risks.
Yet I remain silent as reality sets in.
This is no happy ending, this is a goodbye.
written August 11, 2016.
I enter another a dimension as you make your way inside of me.
I don’t travel down old roads but I like the way this one feels.
You touch me in places you were first acquainted with so many moons ago.
It’s amazing how my body can’t help but make magic with yours.
We didn’t miss a beat,
but it’s clear that we missed each other,
and I’m sorry that for all of those months
I hid myself from you.
I’ll exchange my scars for yours
if you’re willing to show me all of the places that the pain still resides.
They say you can’t get healing from the one who hurt you,
but I’m here to prove them wrong.
The crazy thing about our story,
is that neither one of us wanted it to exist.
Ink spewing from the same fountain,
as we fight for the narrative’s control.
There are people from our past, and even more in our present,
who will try to disrupt our fluidity
to keep us from completing what our hearts have started.
I won’t fight with them, but I’ll fight for you.
Let down your guard so that the plot strengthens instead of thickens.
Allow me to water the soil that we stand on,
so that it becomes enriched with what we have to offer one another.
Let life take its course and don’t give fear the permission to stop it.
It would be a tragedy if you put an end to what we’re meant to be.
I want to be your reason, not a season.
I want to be your lifetime, not a loss.
Love me until your cup runneth over.
Love me until all you can do is love me some more.
Love me until it changes you for the better.
Love me until there’s no room for goodbye.
written August 7, 2016.
What number am I on?
My face is starting to flush
and my hands are starting to wander.
I said that last time would be the last time,
but I don’t care to keep my word.
I see you looking at my thighs.
Would you like to cum in between them?
Won’t you tell me that you missed me
while you stroke my fears away?
You know that I want you,
but you don’t know that I crave you.
You don’t realize how I view you,
or that I want to make you mine.
I wore the leggings you like –
the ones that fit just right.
I’m waiting for the moment when you start to take them off.
I don’t want to say it.
I’m silently begging you not to make me.
You’re serving me all this liquor,
but I’m just here for flesh.
written July 25, 2016.
I miss you.
I miss your smell,
and pressing my mouth against your
neck even if it’s not to kiss you.
I miss tickling you with my nose.
I miss singing in your kitchen
and watching in awe as you rap.
I miss dancing with you all over the house.
I miss seeing the way you smile when I say something outlandish,
or when I milly rock for no reason.
You are sexy in so many ways,
even when you’re sleeping.
I just want to be wrapped up in your arms
every second of every day.
I dream of a night where we go into the city,
and get drunk and roam the streets with no destination in mind.
Your lips finally meet mine and you tell me that you love me
as I become undone.
We get a hotel since 5 am isn’t as far away as it feels.
As you lay me down,
your eyes behold me in a way I’ve never witnessed before.
They don’t look at me like they want me for the awaiting moments of ecstasy,
they look at me like they want me for life.
written July 20, 2016.
I passed by you today.
It was swift and unsettling.
I can imagine that it seemed
as if a train raced down the rails.
You didn’t see me,
but I know you felt me,
because you paused shortly after
life led my feet the other way.
I glanced back quickly,
to see you standing amidst
bodies bouncing off of one another.
You swayed rhythmically with the chaos
as if the madness made you feel at home.
I turned around right before
a single tear slipped down your cheek.
My timing was perfect.
We weren’t supposed to cross paths today.
It’s a wonder why we did.
And had I stayed longer,
you would’ve been able to tell
that your tear was matching mine.
written July 12, 2016.
I’m sorry that my worth couldn’t make you stay longer.
I’m sorry that the way that I laugh and the way that I think wasn’t enough.
I’m sorry that you put limits on my feelings,
because you didn’t want to deal with them.
I guess you thought that they could be told where to go.
I’m sorry that I let you down when I should have lifted you up.
I was young and selfish and overwhelmed.
My current behavior cannot make up for the mistrust
that past mistakes have created.
Now a chance with you is only rendered in a dream.
I’m sorry that you feel this way.
I’m sorry that when you wanted me, I reduced us to fun and games -
I was under the impression that we mutually viewed things as such.
I ultimately minimized us to protect myself.
I didn’t think about a future
because I didn’t know you cared enough to have one.
Two years later here I am,
apologizing for things I haven’t even done,
feeling regretful about “then”
because it affects us now.
I guess it’s best that we don’t text or talk on the phone anymore.
I guess it’s best that you’re out of sight and out of mind.
I guess it’s best that I don’t tell you that I love you.
I’m sorry that you’ll never know.
written July 11, 2016.
A king is who you are,
and will forever be.
Do not allow society
to tell you differently.
Now come bring me your heartache;
let me wipe away your shame.
I will take the shackles off your feet,
and alleviate your pain.
I know they demonize you,
and instill so many with fear,
but I know the real you;
your voice I will gladly hear.
You feel alone because you’re at odds,
trying to provide in an imprisoned state.
I know you’re angry and discouraged,
but do not be filled with hate.
I can be your superwoman;
I’m no deity but what is true,
is that everything I’ve ever needed,
I have found in you.
written July 6, 2016.