Love Songs

Everything I had only seen in dreams

had manifested itself right in front of me

and I touched it.

I dug my fingertips into his flesh like I was caressing piano keys,

hoping to leave my fingerprints embedded in his soul.

I used my nail to carve my name into his lungs,

praying that with every breath he took in,

he unconsciously sang my name

and when he exhaled,

a love story bellowed from somewhere deep within.

Somewhere that had always been inside him

but was begging to be awaken,

so that he could thrive the way God meant him to.

He gave me goose bumps.

And they rose up like braille all across my skin

and wrote a lyric to an undeniable melody.

Like Shakespeare and Sade had collaborated

to write the world’s most enticing love ballad

and they used my heartbeat like an 808.

Together, we could be music.

And my heart would be crooned by

the vibrations in his voice.

His lips would know the words to songs he’s never even heard of

because every verse reminds him of our love.

My eyelashes would be acoustic guitar strings

and when I blinked,

our tune would softly echo in the space around us,

growing louder with time

until the sound was unbearable

and he was incapable of ignoring that

I’m standing right in front of him !

Hollowed,

insides pulsating,

hands shaking,

waiting,

always waiting.

We could harmonize.

A pleasing combination of two being drawn together as one

and I could sample every missing beat of my heart from his

and I would share my breath with him.

I could stop hiding behind metaphors

and lopsided soliloquies backed by

wounded symphonies.

I’d leave lyrics on his lips every time we kissed

because these words

are stapled like a secret to the back of my throat

pleading to said,

no longer wanting to be wait to be heard

and accepted.

And when our voices grew tired of singing,

we could love each other instrumentally,

vocals removed,

bodies speaking on our behalf,

stripping every layer down

until we are raw, uncut versions of ourselves.

Love and Other Drugs

and i leave you with this.
i hope these words travel like smoke from my lips
and replace the air in your lungs
so that when i'm not in a
hand-holding,
tongue-wrestling,
skin-caressing distance,
you can hear some of these lines
every time you breathe out.

and maybe you'll need me then
like i need you now.

so excuse me if i seem a little anxious.
its just...
i want so badly to be naked with you.
i want us to leave every stitch of our clothes on
and pull back our souls layer by layer
until we know every story that accompanies every scar.

and when we're done catching up on old mistakes,
i want to let all of my inhibitions go
and learn the description of your veins
as they go racing to your heart.
so thoroughly that i could,
describe them to a blind man
who's never known the feeling
of being lost in someone's eyes,
day dreaming of love making on cloud nine.
high.

and all my dreams and
drug-like acid trips are the color of your complexion.
nothing else.
just your skin,
filling every canvas of my thoughts.

good thing i think you're the most beautiful thing God ever made.

and i don't mind seeing your face etched on the inner surface of my eyelids,
picturing you wearing my thighs like earmuffs
in world gone cold,
you're the one that makes me feel warm,
like i have the sun perched inside my rib cage
keeping it safe for any future rainy days,
so when you need a sunrise,
i can stitch you one
just for you to place your prayers on.

i would do that for you
because well,
i love you.

and i hate that i have to sum up the way
my palms sweat
and my stomach still crowds with butterflies
even after all this time of
melting into your kisses
and needing your hugs while i'm sleeping
into these three little words
that wouldn't even have a definitive meaning
without your existence.
but baby,
these three little words
are all i have.

Brownsuga* Skin

Written at 5am...what's sleep anyways ?

Please don't forget that I'm your rib.

Cause I've been here for so long that

you tend to disregard me

and strike me from

your thoughts and memories.

But every time you breathe,

you feel me,

and with every step that follows,

I lure u in,

like a sin

to be committed and forgiven.

My lips drawn speechless,

harborin secrets

and barring unadorned kisses.

Skin whisperin of the Garden of Eden,

holdin scents of fruits and flower petals.

And this is how you find me,

clothed by nothing but the Sun.

I'm without shame

and you can see my every scar

and mark tickled into my body's frame,

you beg to know my body's name.

The wind screams 'Beauty'

and without question,

you agree.

Laid out in front of you

is me.

A once blank canvas painted with

the colors of beach sunsets and spring rains.

Autumn hikes across my veins,

and my smile embodies full moons.

Cheeks rosy with aroused heat and anticipation

as your fingertips draw near me.

Amazement crawls its way between us,

draggin lust on its backside.

You lick love into my insides,

sweet honey bee nectar hidden deep within my thighs.

You're buzzin 'round,

tracin my every curve with wide eyes of disbelief,

tongue draggin with hopes of mischief.

This is brownsuga* skin...

breasts perked high at attention,

back arched just slight so the view is just right.

Womanhood drippin like a question mark,

soaked with my own curiosities.

Body parts swellin with pleasure,

every nerve on edge,

temptations crawling over my goosebumbs.

This is ecstasy.

Satisfaction buried deep within my pigment.

Strength tangled in my complexion.

There's no soul like the one trapped in brownsuga* skin.

Baby, my name is Black** Woman. 

*To be replaced with an adjective that describes your complexion. Our shades are so full of flavor and sensuality but when I wrote it, I felt like I had wrote it for anybody. All shades are beautiful and are open to acceptance.

**When I originally wrote it, I had just wrote Woman. But I'm Black...lol. Basically the word itself is interchangeable with any other ethnicity or can just be left out and said as Woman. Again, I wrote it for anybody and all women are beautiful in their own way just by the mere fact that we're women. Please don't forget that you are his rib. We're the strength of the world and whatnot, works of art. =)

The Discovery of a Void (And Its Eventual Acceptance)

Written earlier this week...


I am on an endless search for substance.

Something tangible that I can wrap myself around.

And every time I think I’ve found it,

my fingers part their separate ways

and I watch as the little bits of concrete certainty

slide from my grasp.

I always put my hope in the wrong things.

I rip my faith apart at its seams

and release all the little pieces into

winds that float on dark horizons

and I pray that God will find them in them morning

and return along with them

the emotions that I’ve lost.

Emotions that have been consumed by

a complete inability to translate them

into words that hold any value.

It’s almost like I’m screaming

but you can’t hear me.

Either I’m not loud enough or

you’ve turned deaf ears and blind eyes to me,

anything to bury me six feet below your realities.

I’ve lost all my friends to either

distance or distrust.

I’ve tried to keep people from turning into shadows.

I always fail.

The blades of their tongues

always cut the arch of my back

leaving me to rebuild on top of old scars every time.

And they disappear while I’m tending to my wounds.

But everyone always leaves behind their pictures,

photographs of me and them smiling into lenses that know nothing of our fate.

I wonder is this how everything ends,

in two dimensions

that fail to mention

that once our lucks and dooms were

intertwined and connected

so much that when I inhaled

your lungs dispersed my oxygen back out into our atmosphere.

I always trust that everyone will be there.

But all these expectations soon find their way to empty promises.

Empty promises that carve out voids beneath my skin

and wait to be discovered.

I struggle.

But I make companions of my empty spaces.

I crave their solitude.

These detections of holes within my soul are

a confirmation of my fears.

Proof that even with them here,

I still exist.

Anatomy

Never have I ever written something and not known why...it's almost like another part of me wrote this while I stood on the sidelines and watched. It doesn't feel like me...but it feels like something kinda familiar...I think. Or maybe I'm just rusty...lol

Written about a month ago...

My body is a temple.

And yours knows the password to unlock all my secrets.

A slight part of my lips tries to tell you stories of my organs

but instead I end up inhaling your being.

And your soul crawls through my airway and makes itself comfortable next to mine.

I admire your posture so intensely that

your regal strength whips itself around my spine and rips the insecure slouch from my body.

I don't know if I'm standing with you or for you

but my body has never been so perpendicular to heaven and it feels sweet.

Your soul grips me,

its new found mate,

internally and my eyes jump to yours for reassurance of the at hand occurrence.

Your eyelashes are reminiscent to acoustic guitar strings

and every time you blink,

it’s like deep, sultry music to my ears.

And my fingertips begin to ache to feel you.

I know the second we meet skin to skin,

our complexions will devour each other

and blend themselves into a shade too beautiful for description.

And the goose bumps...

the goose bumps will be like braille to the blind

so that even they can know of the lyrics seeping from our pores.

My lungs are filled to capacity with the dancing of our souls.

They begin to expand inside of me

and my sternum starts to crack with excitement

until the skins rips itself away from my frame and leaves me open.

Exposed.

Vulnerable. 

Brown sugar pours from my veins and your tongue catches every drop.

You tell me I taste angry.

But you know I'll linger with an aftertaste you'll always remember,

even on the days u try to force yourself to forget.

My heart creeps near our toes,

struggles to stay whole without its shelter.

You can see every crack and scratch

and we can both hear a faint beat that sounds like its groaning your name.

My whole face flushes the color of hot summer sunsets with embarrassment.

And you laugh.

Of all things to do, you laugh.

And I feel my eyes swell up with the Great Lakes.

I know so much emotion is about to fall out

of this bare cavity that used to house the heart

now perched at your ankles begging for your attention.

But your lips send their apologies

and they place themselves against my own and dance themselves into a frenzy.

I cave into your chest for security and protection…

but mostly for the comfort of your anatomy. 

Storms.

Thunder shook me from my sleep.
And I reached out for you
only to wrap my hand around
emptiness and disappointment.
I squeezed my pillow
and thought of you and our storms.
And now this trip down memory lane
got me uneasily walking through our late nights.
This rain outside would be perfect for some lovemaking;
moans escaping in between the raindrops.
I squirm at the thought of times when we've been one;
finding your way into the heavens between my thighs.
I've made the storm jealous;
becoming drenched with all this reminiscing.
It'd be better if you were here to feel this storm with me;
the storm in me.
The heavens throb for your touch;
and I squeeze tighter tryna keep the flood waters in.
Outside my window;
thunder beckons again
and I can almost feel you pounding in me
as if you're tryna outdo Mother Nature.
Lightning flashes
and I look up into the night sky to see your face.
I bite my lip with frustration.
I want your lips against mines;
drowning amongst the clouds.
You dive into me.
Then quiet my pleas
with long overdue kisses
and I taste my angels that have found home near my knees.
The heavens can't keep the moisture from flowing out the gates.
Oh; it's amazing how
your body quakes into mines;
sending shakes up my spine.
I dig my nails into your skin;
clawing at your flesh;
tearing apart your sins.
Downpour outside picks up speed;
and you change pace to keep up;
personal storms trickling down my thighs.
Deep breaths.
Sweet moans.
Long sighs.
I toss and turn under the weight of your memory
and cuddle with the Iloveyou's of our past.
Storm still frantic in my heavens;
hell erupts outside my window
and the room smells of satisfaction
and reeks of your absence.

Whoooo. I turned myself on when I wrote this lmao. I mean I was already a little turned on anyways...lls tis how I thought of it.

A Very Long Story Short.

It's hard havin my heart spread out over such a large, vast space. It's like, okay...heart broken. No secret there. But it still finds a way to beat and do all the things it did before. I mean, shit, it's a lil stronger than it was. Loves a lil more than before. Even through fear. I'll keep my distance when I'm feelin down, bite my lip when I wanna tell you how I feel, and hug. I'll hug anyone cause the great thing about givin a hug is you're simultaneously gettin one in return.

Well anyways; back to all the lil broken pieces of my heart being spread everywhere. I'm texting what I guess you can label my best friend; I've gotten so used to her presence and her just being there for me over these past few months. And now; Maryland seems so empty without her.

So, a piece of my heart is in New York. And London. North Carolina. And several parts of Maryland.

I'm a lover. It's so beyond annoying cause I'll be walkin around expectin people to love me how I love them. Like; who does that ?? So here's a snippet from a convo I had last night when I was just hittin tipsy:

My expectations are now very low. Standards still high; but expectations low. I don't wanna expect anything and then be disappointed when I don't get it. Not again. I don't wanna go there again. 

So; yea...there's a wall up; emotionally but it doesn't mean that everyone doesn't have equal chance to prove to me that my expectations should be as high as my standards. But the truth is: I'm just scared. Scared for myself. And of course scared for anyone who thinks anything of me. I don't wanna unconsciously be responsible for pieces of hearts everywhere.