Half of herself. She felt like that item that was half-off on the shelf. Seemed like she was giving away that buy one get one for free, while saying to her friends “that would never be me.” But she had everything in common with an item that was low in demand. She was no different from those women hoping and praying for a man. She may have kept it kosher and didn’t let them see her sweat, but truth is she was cheating herself. She had a hard exterior but was super easy to get, She had convinced herself that all she wanted was the sex, she would give it to him like he never had, be his best, and then end it before it ever got started, and she’d have no regrets. But truth is she had given up so much of who she was while trying to front like she gave nothing away. She tried to act unfraid, when she was far from brave. So many times she walked away when she wished she had stayed. She knew strangers with benefits was far from promising. She was a realist who understood that although sex is important in a relationship, it’s chances of leading to one were slim to none. She was stripped of her value. There was no longer a need for her so they had to attract customers to her somehow. The best way to do that is to stick a huge half-off sign on her. Surely she’ll fall into the hands of the next person that will only use her for that one thing and then dispose of her.
penofthegoldenchild asked:
I know right? It's like, she's....I dunno. I'm not at all eloquent when I'm around her, like how do you speak poetically to a woman who could possibly be your muse and still remain cool?
I have no idea. Sometimes I want to introduce him to my writing but I fear it may be too deep. He may distance himself because he’ll think I’m way more into him than he is to me. You know? Like my work makes me come off clingly. But I lack shallowness. I don’t know how to just see a moment, I notice everything about it. Just as I notice everything about the moments we share. Anyways, I hope that you find a way to tell her. She’ll enjoy it. :)
Can’t quite put my finger on it…
You look really familiar.
I searched through my memory for traces of the places that I may know you from but nothing came up.
I reminded myself of every conversation I had, trying to see if I ever knew your name.
But I got nothing.
I feel like some part of me has known you forever…my soul maybe…
But I can’t quite put my finger on it .
It’s so cliche of me to mention maybe in another lifetime so I try to think back to landmarks of my past that could lead me to our first encounter.
Surely I cannot be mistaken because an attraction so powerful is felt just as strongly every time you see that person.
Their scent is permanently engraved in your memory.
Their soul leaves a tint of shade over your heart.
Well maybe we met in passing, did you go to high school in-no? You’re not from here. Right.
Maybe there was a family vacation?Wait, I don’t travel much. Back to square one.
I’m not going to believe this is the first time we met.
You had my heart the second you said hello, which says to me my heart knew you before this very moment.
Y’all were lovers and friends long before our eyes connected
And definitely before the 50 first dates that anchored my heart in the palm of your hands.
I even went to my brain’s stock room to do inventory of past loves.
Surely I’d come across your name.
But I got nothing.
Whats mind-boggling is that this isn’t a movie. There is no director saying cut, telling us to do the kissing scene over because its not believable or to gaze into each other’s like its the first time we fell in love.
I’m not convincing myself that I read these moments somewhere in a novel and accidentally replaced our names with the main characters.
No, this right here is R E A L. And this is definitely not the 50s where you meet someone and it is love at first sight because the days we live in are complicated and love is based on so much more than just love.
So I am more than positive that I have been falling in love with you long before today happened, but the day and time are just not coming to me;
I just can’t quite put my finger on it…
If I gave you a novel would you believe it was the story of my life? You see, I come from a dark wounded place that people have managed to poke holes of light into along the way. He’s definitely one of those people. The breathtaking image of a being that I couldn’t create with words or even paint with the softest of pastels. Again I find myself not wanting to trouble my pen and paper with his name but yet here I am. My conversations are flooded with his name and my smiles are intoxicated with his smile. And those eyes… The way he sees me from a vantage point and still likes my company and the being that I am. Each day I hold my breath out of fear of waking up and it being just a dream. It’s also a mechanism to keep from hurting myself. A means of protecting my heart from loving another being without his permission. This little light of mine…
It only takes a few times for u to go without eating to get that animalistic desire in you never to miss a meal again. Never have I ever been at such a low place in my life. It didn’t count while I was in school because my one mission was graduation. But now graduation has passed and I really have to make a life for myself. This hungry life isn’t for me. Some things are about to change.
Constantly battling with the worse version of myself. The part of me that doesn’t feel like I’m amazing enough to be loved by another being. The part of me that is convinced that there’s no one out there that could see the best in me. No one out there that could love me, flaws, and all. She’s the part of me that has won all of these years but its about that time for me to starve her. Can’t live like this forever.
He asked, “why me?” It took me a second to answer because to be honest, I didn’t know myself. How do you explain to someone that you’re not just yourself with them; you’re better. How do you give them something tangible? You see I picked my brain a million times trying to figure out how I became so smitten over him. 2 people that hardly have much to their name but yet seem to have everything when they’re together. The awkwardly uncomfortable young woman that found my comfort zone the second I was in his presence. He’s a person so delicate to me that I almost don’t want to write about him because once I am able to verbalize what this is, it could possibly lose what’s special about it. How do you tell someone that you knew from the first day that you met them that you wanted to be with them?That it’s something about them that you wouldn’t dare want to live without? I never found the right words, so I used the only words I had and told him, “You make me happy,” and left it there.
The struggle with being me is that there are times when I feel so strongly about things. Times when I cannot unwrap my mind, and my heart, from around things. Sometimes I get upset because why would God create me so sensitive, so passionate, so soulful? I’m not one to question God. It’s just that sometimes being me is too much for me to take. The traits that make me such an amazing person are the traits that tend to be my curse as well. I wish someone understood and could make me feel at ease. Maybe I should just sleep so that I don’t have to think.
Graduating from college is a beautiful thing. However, it is also the most terrifying thing as well. While in college, graduation seems to be the biggest giant in your life. Seems like no matter how close, you just might not make it. After graduation, it seems like everything is your giant. You no longer have this tangible goal with a set date. Now, you have to determine if you’re going to go back to school, what school you are going to, find a job that you will most likely hate just to get you by, and then tag on stressful apartment hunting. You don’t want to live in the slums but you can’t afford to live how you want to. So what do you do? What you have to do. Collect those tears before they fall and give it all to God. Then you get to job and apartment hunting because faith without works is dead. Lord give me strength.
I wrote a poem about it, and then threw it away, because that’s the last thing I need right now: More words dedicated to people who will never dedicate a single thing to me.
