Haunting

Smokey listeners

Reaching for the shallow limbs of black

They sink and wail to discover life

And so I remain, printed and somewhat flaky 

Together, forested in fictions

I lie to myself when I stretch out of the hopeful comforts

I’m picked as bark

The dog days are quite holy; haunting 

The body was muddy and dug out of void

Being, holy as well

Peer through 

Identify me, then leave me to be, leave me alone

As I grow feral to the moans of cicadas 

I will touch the golden skies in faith

The ones I indulge in and tell stories about

Black Sheep

I can go anywhere and find home on my skin
Resting in dew
What’s new
When strangers are blue
Sketched and watercolored onto blocks
I’m an iridescent rock with moss
I wrap my locs when I’m around em
Pretend I’m Medusa, not a bit hesitant
And my shadows vow to move exactly how I move
As I pretend to blend in as if I belonged here
I dodge small talk
I know real voices, true hearts
I’ve mastered how to mirror; starting over less foreign than I
I knew I was alright
I was a locust bite, bitter
In the cool hybrid air
I made my way through the stolen
What I gave away could never keep up
My gift was melted and sculpted
Sometimes I’d call it love

Out

Spread out

To disappear

I’m distracted

My mind’s not near

My mind’s tuned in

Tuned out

I’m not walking forward

Spaced out

I’m a broken clock

A broken record

And I’m upside-down

Bone comfort, adored lover

“The things we have in common, probably why we get along and also why we’re no good. The toxic pleasure in the mutual stroking of each other’s egos, shadows, soft spots. We are impermanent, so I can be in coexistence with you until we’re not. I look at you tenderly and will call you a lover for the rest of this life regardless of how, if, or when things end. I genuinely hope you’re able to connect with more compatible lovers. It’s one of the most pleasurable things, and good for da soul.”

“I agree Miss mulberry. Beautiful word choice.”

I wouldn’t call all the people I’ve had sex with a lover. The fate of my lovers and I tend to be bittersweet. I know it all too well. It’s comfortable having the dynamic we have. Like all, I see a piece of myself in X and a piece of him in me. He resurrected a part of me I thought was dead. He got me dancing again..

“He heats up and I lie down with him. Licking skin, fixing our faces.. He is pressure, I volcanic rock and I soon glaze over.”

I know I can’t carry X to the other side when/if the time comes. I’m pretty sure I want to grow, to learn how to relationship, to try wholeheartedly choosing someone and commiting at least once. To face my fears, and cast away my trust issues. It sounds nice, the vision is clear, the work however not for the weak. And relationships are my greatest weakness. Now I’m not weak, I’m just not sure if I can actually do it, if all of me wants to, if I’ll get the chance, if I have the tools..

Because if I’m honest; more often than not, I don’t want him; or anyone else, to be mine. A part of me doesn’t want to be wanted or possessed in that way either. It’s a vulnerability I’m uncomfortable with. It’s a sacrifice I have mixed feelings and thoughts about..I love my solitude and being my safe space. I like him and having him around, and the feeling is mutual, and that’s alright. being lovers is simple, freeing, safe..

“Play with me. Stay with me. Relax here..”

I think I knew this all along, and I know the longer we remain the more bitter than sweet the end will be for me. It was supposed to be a smooth ending, but I threw my hands up and gave X what he wants, what a part of me wants. We’re fairly open and solid with communication so nothing is a surprise. I know him and I know him well. I know our dance like the back of my hand. I am willing and leaning in. I can be here, now. And if we stay fucked up and never heal the parts we share, we probably will wind up dancing much longer than I intended…

I just don’t want another cold goodbye, or to tire. I wanna be warm still, tender still when it ends. I had a chance at a soft clean slate, but he is a charming woodpecker and I’ve never had a lover quite like this so I’ll indulge until I don’t anymore. He’s familiar and also unknown, and well I’m pulled…

“You help me see and understand nothing.. There is no right or wrong with you.”

..All of my lovers have a special place in my heart though..

“Love is supposed to be free not lethal.”

..I wanna be a better lover..

..I’m grateful and I’ll abstractly draw him and write passionate poems when the heartache comes and in the meantime..

“My love comes in all forms.”

Tiny glass

My lover was passive

He was made of glass and

We didn’t appear full enough

Tried making eye contact in summer trees

Seeing we weren’t meant to become lucid bees

Just tiny things playing make believe