Even if you do, not very well.
It does not mean I hate eating because I’m thin
Or that I’m always full ’cause I’m fat.
Doesn’t mean I have no problems ’cause I live in the Hills
Or that I’m not happy in the Bronx.
It does not mean I’m in a bad place ’cause I didn’t finish school,
Or that I have a degree, I’m not streets smart.
I don’t know you,
You don’t know me,
And even if you do, not very well.
It does not mean I’ll give you money because I have some,
Or that I…
I can’t marry a poet
His mind is always plenty.
Thinking of ways to put life into short sentences
On empty pages, along dotted lines.
His hand is never empty.
Jotting down deeds that should stay unwritten
On paper napkins with blunt pens.
I won’t marry a poet
He’ll paint our life on white canvases,
for the world to dig into
and make silent accusations.
He’ll turn our home into his work,
with nowhere else to go to
we’ll become lamentations.
I shouldn’t marry a poet
I’ll be the ink spread across the stanzas
The words keeping the book going.
The look of Love
Is the wide smile
On his face
When he looks at me with desire,
I saw his stained teeth that night
We lit a candle to chase the darkness
Yet, it could not match his brightness.
Like a drop of compassion
On a blurry evening.
He lost a friend to the afterlife
The first day.
I felt his sadness, his madness
The time was red, the moment blue
And we did what was for us two
The look of Love
Gave me peace today
I was afraid
Of what the future held
He took my hand
I remember growing up and always being asked what we wanted to become later in life. It was a common question in school. The answers ranged from doctors, lawyers, engineers, inventors, and bankers; the big five as we used to call them. Our teachers used to get offended because no one bothered to mention teaching as their dream career, even to please them.
That was my dream. Back then, I didn’t know how I would ever achieve that, but I believed it would happen. Beauty was my main goal.
In hindsight now, I realize why it was vital for me…
Tis the partaking
The first, the sour the tasting
Once, we were innocent
Beginners in this long and confusing journey
Had our foremost, got our penchant
And now, it’s all we fancy
Tis the refutation,
The pretense and constant contradiction
Once, it were true
That we knew ourselves to be right
Now it’s a belief we cling to
And we hold on to that tight
Tis the denial
The lie that it’s all essential
Once, it were wrong
That indulgence would lead to ruin
We now close our ears to the song
Putting in, all our coin
Tis the addiction
They say misery loves company, but it seems today more people prefer solitude when they are miserable. I am those people.
It is a vital thing, but sometimes you need to be by yourself. Your loved ones may not understand this, but you should enjoy it. Being alone allows you to think quietly about what you deem crucial in your life, enjoy your company and discover what you want for yourself. Being alone is not always an indicator of loneliness or depression. Most times is not your cup of tea. …
The first month was beautiful
In all the ways I never thought.
We were young, we were brave.
And every touch felt like the first.
All my fears faded in the dark.
We were us, having our blast
Taking turns, working to give back.
Then two turned to three
And my tears flowed freely that gray night.
I was torn. I was afraid.
Wondering why I was back here again —
Back to the worries and the constant pain
But he told me it wasn’t in vain
And I thought he must have been insane.
So I spent the whole day combing through Medium looking for tidbits and take-backs for my next article. I was supposed to write it in the morning. Six hours have passed since, and the only thing I could get in was a headline. If I may be honest, the title is ‘ We are the women left behind ‘. It scored a 48% on a headline analyzer. I have been analyzing my headlines of late to get more conversions. There, I said it.
I have stories about my life, what I have learned, what I plan to do but somehow…
I am good, I am bad, I am everything in between
I’m not good, I’m not bad, and not everything in between
I’m a saint in a devil, a demon in an angel
I inspire, I assist, I rebuke, I detest.
I know who I am and I don’t
I know what I want yet I don’t
And my affairs with fellow men
My workings around town
Got me giving myself to my work
To my people, my love and my choices
Got me thinking I’m always the good one
The best person, the right individual
Got me treating myself…
When you put me down
My walls came tumbling
And all my doubts faded.
When you held me up
I felt you over my being
And I wanted to stay here, always.
Your entrance into my being, rendered me weak
And I surrendered to your touch
Your spirit moved mine.
Have you ever been touched
Ever been kissed
Like it was the last time on Earth?
Have you ever been moved
To the edge of you
Where your body and spirit, merged into one?
Have you ever felt so much pleasure
From the love of another? …