I’m currently trying, okay well let’s say I am, writing a novel. It’s a true challenge for me but that’s why I want to get so much better at it. Poetry comes naturally but putting all my thoughts and made up worlds in my head into categories, chapters, and their own special places causes me to be structured, which I seem to dislike most days. This is just a tiny excerpt so you can see where I’m going with this. ❤
He recreated me with his words. Before this love came into my life by surprise my self esteem had diminished into something I never knew I could become. But his words, they spoke to me in a way that no one ever had. Understanding my deepest desires and knowing what's it's like to be where I am from. Knowing what it's like to fear being alone because you're afraid of what your thoughts might say to you. Afraid of what they could convince you to do. Never should I have let him come into my life and save me because when he left, my heart and the person I had become left with him. Right here, there's an empty hole in my heart from what I use to feel. Cold, heartless, emotionally unstable to the point where I can't even remember what I had for breakfast this morning. There is no life in the life I live. There is no vital oxygen in my lungs to withstand all this weight pressing down on this cavity.
The eyes are the gateway to the soul so you won’t catch me making much eye contact. I have lost my ability to laugh at the beauty of this life, only taking notice to the disgusting, the ugliness that I give off. I guess that's why I receive those things in return. I’m not concerned about these so called lessons to be learned when it comes to my misery. He will feel the wrath of my pain because how could I let such betrayal slip away. The injuries that my once beating heart have sustained tells me that there is no tomorrow. It slowly speaks to me making sure I hear every word telling me that I can love no more.
My phone has been ringing all day. I know it's him but the covers have me captivated and I chose to surrender months ago. You can see the dust as the sunshine peeks through my blinds. The air is smothering like an atomic bomb let off in my memory.
Copyright 2013 Ta'Mesha Smith