confuse

I wanna kiss your forehead and tell you that I dream about you at night
but my confessions about how much i love you may be splatter by a cold heart
a heart that still beats for me but can't warm up to me
Tell me when you look in my eyes you don't melt.
First thing you wanna do is kiss me
because it feels right
saying I love you feels right
you can imagine the future and see it as a mistake
but the present is something you still want to risk
never seen someone so cold hearted and loving at the same time
push me away so you can deny how much you love me
but keep me close enough so that i wouldn't forget you

Untitled

Im waiting for him to come In and kiss my neck
But there are too many miles between us
No one ever told me waking up without him would be so hard
Its been two weeks since I last watched you sleep
The smell of your scent no longer lingers in my sheets
I try and remember your smile
Your touch as you caress my face
But the days are adding up
And memories don’t live like people do
These 100 miles between us are driving me insane
At night I dream of a warm kiss to the forehead
From your thick mocha brown lips
But all I get is an illusion
I mark down my calendar hoping today will be the day
That my eyes will split and you will be there sleeping next to me
But the closes I get
Is wearing the t-shirt you sprayed with your cologne
To bed
holding the bear you gave me
Praying every time I kissed it you felt it on your body.
Two people that connect like jigsaw puzzle pieces
Can’t seem to piece together while their nights are so lonely
I listen to you fall asleep
As all the dust in my room come together
To form the outline of your body
I would walk the hundred miles
Everyday if I meant I would see your face.
I would do anything
To eliminate these miles between us
So that we may cuddle at night
This bed was made for two
But only one lonely heart seems to fill it
I will count down the days
Till my sleeping prince is laying next to me
Holding me
Protecting me
And loving me
Again

Inspired by Colored Girls

I write

I carve

I write

I carve

Do you see my artwork?

The physical message of a pen can not always be written sometimes it has to be craved

I mean I crave

I crave it into my skin as if it was the pages of my notebook

I flip through different chapters of my life

Marking it into my skin like landmarks

I say I fell

But the knife fell into my skin so that my blood can be released like pain

I don’t feel the pain

I feel stories unfolding

Like crippled pieces of paper in a garbage

My massacre is being released

You feel sorry for me

But I feel free

My arms shows the marks

Of my history

Don’t tell me I should not have dignity

If only you knew what was done to me

You would help me

write

carve

Do you see my artwork?