I hang my head out the window To hear the hum of the city – The planes, the trains The automobiles, The sex; I climb And nearly to leap out, Grasping for one reminder, You and opposite the imprint, Scratches we’d left in bed, Indents foolish, signs sought, I think we called that hour “love.”
Reticence echoing the concrete, An only reply to my, “hello,” Becomes the first And even more Frightening – Waived, As I drift in between Houses, with, “Is anybody out there?” A subtle follow-up Precursory twilight insomnia.
So with my last friend in hand, both Brothers and sisters to belly, I remain a mute With the loudest of Voices – Singular, solitary Or departed at best Wishing that the City paid its electric-bill And the people’d come back to life; Included the crowd, she’d return too.
MIDNIGHT: I know it’s late, but I thought about what you told me the other night, and it’s really incredible. Out of 400 million galaxies, I managed to be born in this one. Out of 196 countries on this earth, I found my way to this city. I found you.
ONE: Did I already call? I just had a question. I’m trying to remember what shade of brown your eyes are but the only thing I can think about is your arms. Both because they’re hot as fuck and because they’re the only place I’d feel safe right now.
TWO: Last time I was this drunk, I threw up in someone’s car and onto the walls of a bathroom and all over the sidewalk. I feel sick to my stomach, but not in the same way. My chest hurts more than anything else. I think I just miss you. is there any way you
THREE: said no and I would’ve listened, but you didn’t, so how can this be my fault? I’m sorry, I’m just scared, I’m scared and I don’t know where my keys are and you
FOUR: but please don’t tell anyone about how I
FIVE: Spanish class, she won’t stop talking about you, and sometimes I just want to tell her all the things you and I
SIX: a bad idea, but you were right. sometimes I can’t talk to you without five shots of anything I can get my hands on first. Telling you how I feel isn’t like learning to drive— it doesn’t get easier with time, it always feels like a freeway collision, I’m just collecting scars every night I call you. I think I need to go. The sun’s coming up and pretty soon you’ll be awake and I don’t want to hear the disappointment in your voice. I love you. In case you didn’t hear me the other sixteen times.
I felt sick. Images I’d kept buried from that night started resurfacing randomly. His voice cut through my panic. ‘Are you okay?’ His hand gripped my shoulder just tight enough to steady me. 'Don’t worry about anything,’ he said. 'I’ll take care of you. How do you feel about France?’
IF IT MAKES ME HAPPY I WILL KEEP MYSELF WITH A SMILE! I’M LOVING ALL THINGS THAT BRINGS PEACE TO ME. IF ITS A KISS FROM HIM. A FLIRT FROM HER. IF IT BRINGS ME HAPPINESS THEN THAT VIBE IS WHERE I’LL BE. STUCK IN A WAVE OF RAW EMOTIONS. NOT CARING WHOSE JUDGING ALL THAT MATTERS IS MY SMILE AND WHAT KEEPS ME HAPPY!
Don’t date me if you think I’m easy.
I’m honestly not.
I’ll fall head over heels for you,
Before I even realize it,
And Heaven help us all if I don’t
Put you first in everything I do.
Don’t date me for my heart;
Goodness, she’s a wild thing with a penchant
For blood. She’s a frightfully vicious thing,
with too much sentimentality for her own good.
My hands are always cold,
(And I’m told I’ve got a heart of gold),
I’ll be clingy and needy,
I’ll wake you up at 3 AM just to tell you that
I love you.
I’ll make you feel too much,
And then nothing at all,
I’ll drag you down to the depths of the ocean,
I’ll breathe life into you only to
Take it back.
I’ll be lover sighs on Sundays and preparing for a fight Mondays,
And I swear, I’ll drive you insane because I can,
And I’ll be someone who needs protecting,
And someone who knows how to fight alone.
I’ll make you simply mad.
not to generalize, but i fucking love black girls. i love their full lipped smiles when no one is looking, i love the lights in their eyes when they know the world is watching and waiting for them to fail and they have every intention of proving it wrong. i love black girls with perms and black girls with kinks and curls. i love black girls who tie their hair up at night in silk and those who don’t. I love black girls with booming laughs and timid giggles. i love black girls who struggle to be soft in a world that hurts them and tells them to be hard. i love black girls who wear name brand athletic apparel and black girls who embrace the day in sundresses. i love alternative black girls with short pastel hair and piercings and i love black girls with box braids. i love black girls with that poetic justice grin. i love black girls with cactus skin and neck hairs pricked to points primed to cut any motherfucker who gets too close uninvited. i love black girls who don’t take nobody’s shit and black girls still learning to speak up and stand up for themselves. i love black girls so so so much because they are struggling to be themselves in a world that doesn’t give two fucks about them, but you know what? these girls are surviving and THRIVING and stunning the sun into silence. i love you black girls. keep doing you.
A few weeks ago, I wrote a post about how it’s okay to want to feel needed. This opinion still stands with me. As humans there are certain needs that need to be met whether physical, mental, spiritual and so on. These needs provide us with the validation and reassurance that we need and crave.
Lately, I have been feeling like a lone wolf. At times I feel super overwhelmed because I feel my hardwork, my actions, my writing, my kindness, the things that I do for others is taken for granted and is unappreciated.
I feel I am often misunderstood and all I long for is to be understood. I am an extremely independent person, but for some reason lately I just have been feeling the need to be reassured that I am appreciated, that my actions and the things I do matter to someone, that I am valued, that my existence matters to someone. I just feel invisible at this point.
I look around and I see everyone, but does anyone see me?
We run like vagabonds,
Through the night with only the clothes on our backs,
And hardly a glance back;
We ignore the road signs and all those letters left unread,
And all the things we’ll never say will fall behind us.
We run like broken heroes,
The stuff of fairy tales and bedtime stories,
Always trying to be the good guy but we ended up the villain,
We tried, oh we tried to do the saving when really,
It was us that needed it most.
We run like forever didn’t matter,
Like we could take on the world with our own two hands,
Like we could eat it raw and not get sick to our stomachs, pretending not to taste blood and brains and all the histories stripped out of textbooks.
We run like bandits,
Setting paths afire, blazing our own trails,
Dodging harsh words and disgusted gazes,
Just trying to find a place where we actually matter,
Where we won’t get shot at, beat at, picked at for wearing our heritage proudly.
We run like conquerers,
Like we know we were once kings and queens, no matter if we were inbetweens,
We keep running,
Sending our sacred prayers into space,
Please, let us get out of this place where things,
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