You speak of love
as if it’s a thing to burn
a common troublemaker
sent to be noosed
your conscience wiped clean
of its existence
it is your unhappy place
full of worms and
unpaid tithes
a sermon focused on
your past from a backsliding
preacher
You send it to
fetch you a pail
of clean water, it
brings you oil instead
this is your version
of love —
the kind that I
have been running away from
since we met
Originally published on Medium via P.S. I Love You.
Blind Reality (An Audio Poem)
as the dust gathers
in your eyes, you
flick it with the tip
of your finger,
pressing its grittiness onto
the bridge of your nose.
blinded by daybreak
a cause for concern
in the dank, deserted, and
dreaded domain of a
commoner’s heart, you
swim effortlessly,
milking the need.
once lost, now found–
a deluge of pain seeps in
reminding us that reality
is a dream and waits
patiently for its turn to
make an appearance.
and like magic
we abracadabra the honey-scented
calmness of a blazing breeze
drifting
drifting
drifting
like lost lovers do.
from his mouth comes
words that pummel
and prick,
calls you, “really good friend”
and you shrivel into
your body, disappearing for days.
you know your lane.
you stay in it.
they handpick the pretty girls
with taut breasts, full lips,
and better vision.
you tell yourself it is
your career choice,
your pregnant opinions
on life, love, and money.
you look in the mirror
and see the opposite of allure.
in your belly, you carry his words,
pressed into your back, kneeing
your bladder.
you convince yourself that it
is a loss on his part,
but deep down, you know
you are not the lover
he seeks, just the friend
who changed with him
for two decades, but
loyalty does not
open any doors.
so you fade into darkness
from the words you have heard,
from his space
and he wonders
why you are cut in half,
drained of love,
running away from
him.
“Highly sensitive people are too often perceived as weaklings or damaged goods. To feel intensely is not a symptom of weakness, it is the trademark of the truly alive and compassionate. It is not the empath who is broken, it is society that has become dysfunctional and emotionally disabled. There is no shame in expressing your authentic feelings. Those who are at times described as being a ‘hot mess’ or having ‘too many issues’ are the very fabric of what keeps the dream alive for a more caring, humane world. Never be ashamed to let your tears shine a light in this world.”
― Anthon St. Maarten
A Cornered Gurl 
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