White Rum

You running around in my head makes me sleepy,

so I go to bed where you run around in my dreams,

then in my brain,

then out my ears onto my pillow,

right down my arm to my fingertips...

I dial your number and there you are

not thinking about me.

My Hands

Rougher than I'd like to admit - 

mishandling the important things with

my clumsy dexterity.

They often ache with want,

reaching for what they can't have,

trying to wring the nervous out when they

come up empty.

I blame them for my habit of hurting myself on others.

My hands -

greedy for validation that

they belong to someone worthy enough 

or lucky enough

or smart enough

to make sound decisions.

And when they look up and see they belong to me,

they're so ashamed that they cover my face,

like I don't know their motive.

All I can do is apologize (over and over)

for fucking up (over and over)

for bad judgement (over and over)

and promise them I won't do it anymore...

Then pray I won't.

And they forgive me time and again,

letting me off the hook

for illogical romanticism

or uneven reciprocity 

and my tendency toward victim hood

when I get what I knew I would

from #loveagainsorta - 

not enough.

They forgive me,

but vow not to wipe my tears if I break my own heart again.

Lucky for me...

all three of us are promise-breakers.

Girl Hands

I used to pray for girl hands -

soft ones that would look good with red polish,

and a big diamond ring.

Or in a picture on top of a man's hand,

on top of a "just-married" white pillow.

Soft hands that weren't chapped since birth,

dainty ones that a boy would want to hold

instead of punch.

Where the lines on the palm would connect

and give me a good future

full of normal things that normal girls want.

I prayed but never got them.

Then one day they came - 

Walked right up to me and grabbed my breasts,

pulled at my heart just beneath the surface,

nicknamed me and held me at night.

Played with my hair.

Played with my feelings.

Left me missing them.

Left me exposed.

I'm careful what I ask for now.

The End

Moving.

Mooooving...

Moooving...forward

Foooor-ward

Fooor-ward

For-ward

Four words...

All love; no regrets.

[period.]

12:01 am (for me) (Haiku)

I did all I could

yesterday...some things I

thought I couldn't too.

Tyler Durden

Can't find the words...help me...

(As long as you look okay, you're ok. Smile. No one questions a smile.)

Wish I knew what to say...

(Just don't cry. Tears will be the only thing remembered.)

But...

(Don't argue with common sense. Strength wins every time.)

Okay. I'll say what you told me.

(Good girl!)

"Goodbye!"

(Good girl...)

Robert Glasper

He said, "You're so beautiful right now,
in the music,
here with me."

"Maybe you're here with me.
Maybe I'm the music.
Maybe I'm in you," I said.

I was the woman I wanted to be -
boldy seductive,
a moment,
an experience.

"Say my name..."

"You first."

She Asked

"What's it like?"

Big eyes wide open and curious.

I searched for a simile, but a metaphor would do.

I smiled to myself.

"It's waking up and learning to walk again 

with feet a size smaller or larger 

than when you went to sleep.

You'll embarrass yourself at first because

you're not used to them.

Then you realize,

you've had feet your whole life.

Do what comes naturally...

WALK!"

- For ARH

If You Can (Haiku)

Tomorrow ain't lost,

no matter if it feels so...

outrun your fear and find it!

Love Me (for liltunechi) (Haiku)

Maybe they all thought

they'd have the baby that would 

promote his "bigness..."

Go! (Haiku)

Toyota's Slogan -

"Let's go places!" I own one...

Why am I waiting?

...with Benefits

I understand the pillows in the bed,

there for comfort

from bad choices.

The staying too long or leaving too soon

that felt right because you were wronged.

...I walked away often, too,

hoping all I gave would (somehow) amount

to all the love they didn't give,

and (somehow) they would give little more than a shit

about the "good" one.

Yeah.

We breathed the same bullshit

at different times, from different asses.

Felt we were special because the world isn't,

and the world ain't us.

Both suckers for love-like feelings,

victims of love-less times,

then the illusion.

You had a friend in me.

And then a place to hide the hurt.

And then a place to hide your face.