Solitude seduces these high pale walls as I stare at the ceiling,
pause,
rewind and play again a series of revelations,
Stomach filled with stones as shadows of the past stretches and encases my mind,
the moon’s steel fingers reaches into my room,
washes me in the moonlight,
gracing wounds that begin to glow and sing,
and so I ask give me the sun, give me the ball of fire’s heat,
remind me it’s better… that it’s better to be alive,
but it’s never half past safe as a constellation of thoughts revolves around in my head,
my intuition is M.I.A…..
red afro dizzy biracial rebel I am …terrified,
feeling good is the bait,
comfort is the poison,
I mummify the secrets of this,
my secrets that fits so close I have grown attach to it,
beginning to understand the darker side of midnight,
and I,
because the more I fall the more he lets go,
and I start to know less of how to win that smile within his eyes,
and yet I’m in love with his loveless eyes,
and with me not knowing where to begin or where to start,
it has accumulated for some time now,
I want to give up wanting him….but will I?
Bullied by the sudden thought of
“Will I miss the taste of wanting him…”?
I contemplate whether I dare to risk,
Continue to suffer his misunderstandings of me,
Stumble for him in the darkness,
Be willing to stand at his door insanely and completely uncalled for…yet hopeful, asking “come here, let me have you”
Tip toeing on the borderline of romance and loneliness,
and often when I feel like this, there’s a knock on the door
…and it isn’t him,
So I fuck something only to discharge the electricity since he won’t let me digest him properly,
he rarely notices how I hang on to his every word,
how I want to touch his body, walk through his mind,
take my time undressing him slowly, my voice fondling his name as I disappear inside his thunder storm of hot, loving arms,
hoping to be coated and crushed in his thick set of dreams,
bathe in his smile, held hostage in the grip of his voice,
be infected by his poison ivy kiss and frozen lips,
wishing for wine on his empty kiss,
but he pick pockets my heart, gathers himself up and leaves,
and I’m here, holding him in that brief moment, sounds of the future tangled in my pockets and I’m trapped in a block of words
I cannot say,
cradling full paragraphs of things “I should say”,
I digest his departure yet needing him to finish me as prescribed,
My black crater eyes unroll delicately to dust, I’m drowning down the feeling again as half smiles and half words mingle with full naked plastic passion and lost,
Hiding the many faces of pain,
Shaking them with the promise of “never again”,
scrubbing clean of all attached and fallen expressions,
accepting to learn to love love’s abuse,
because hell is only temporary… right?
Sadness scribbles its name on my heart, spreading like a stain as it sips on it’s pretty eyes, and yet I’m comfortable with the way I seek to survive…hidden away,
Solitary tear as I dip into the dark, Left alone with only reflections of memories, undressing him from my future,
So I’ll hang this, this gigantic red metamorphic butterfly of a heart,
Hang it right here on the wall,
Just to remind him, it once belonged to you….
---Miss Ember
