Do You Love Me, Today?

Her tounge spread melodies upon parched skin

Arched in words that would last all of the 30 seconds she loved me.

15mins of me loving her so fiercly she cried an orgasm that wrang notes into my soaked thighs.

 

30 months of angered moments, 

Scripted quickly into swirling fingertips printed on tattered backs

Hands trailing down ragged lines of sanity.

 

10 Nails digging to find redemption in her sweat

I bet she doesn’t even remember my name,

My real name

The one I signed loosley between her breast

Among chest full of handprints before me

…there were so many.

 

Lover-Friend-Lover-Friend-Lover-Friend-lover mostly

For I loved her in ways only a first heart could break

Between the madness in sheets wrapped around caramel skin that came poisin

I Drank.

 

As I whispered into her womanhood: 

Do You Love Me,

Today?

For she told me some nights before she turned her back to me

Hands trapsing necks nape as if to say 

‘I love you today…But tomorrow,

Tomorrow may be different

So take what you can get from this…”

So I loved her,

for 15 minutes at a time.

 

Hoping that maybe in my systematic kisses

Today would be forever,

or alternatively,

her 30 seconds would stop in mid -oh

And she would string together a chorus of scarred nights that sang she loved me permanently.

 

But 30 months of trying only birthed pain laboring everytime her loves ink ran dry

Penning me down with pencil lined lusted times

For I knew I wasn’t the only one.

 

Daybreak parted and she would be gone

Leaving me to wonder…

Would She Love Me…today?

Victimless Victim…

So..I wonder what it’d be like to care. To rip pieces from my soul and place them gently at your finger tips. To give up every piece of me, just to prove I’m willing and able to handle you. Prove I’m able and willing to do the same for you. Prove I’m able and willing to care.

I wonder what it’d be like to pick myself up the ground, after putting myself there. To not have a shadow to hide behind. No one to blame, no one to curse, no one to point the finger at except my own reflection.

Being hurt, being the victim who survived…has always been my story.

But if nothing’s wrong…and I’m still messed up, what does that say?

Does it say I’m childish, selfish, immature…and maybe…quite possibly not good enough for you?

…hm.

Arguement.

Argument
An oral disagreement.
Verbal opposition
Contention
Altercation
A verbal argument.

Led to violence

A place where hands to face had no distinguished lines
And where I thought the better I hid my bruises
There’d be less of a chance I’d have to rack my brain for actions of the day
Seeing if I had any reason to avoid her touch
But you see sometimes…
There were good days
I lived for those days
And that is why we stay…isn’t it?
For those good days
Where there were no arguments…

Because the few moments we strived for
Are filled with open doors and swing sets
Sweeping cold air past her cuts and abuses
Were worth it.

Sunset doped in morphine to drip in apathetic forgiveness into my brain
You see…we were trained
to never grow up.
So we remained the same.
Cast in a pool of predecessorry blame.
My father didn’t really love me either
So we act as we are taught.
Following in footsteps of hated thought,
Forgotten rot.
So maybe a part of me understood
That her picking me up from work and lingering kiss
Were her excused apologies mixed in with
I.O.U’s

Inconsistent. Outputs. Uncontrolled.

I owe you an explanation for every time I dropped water on the carpet and let her wash it with my tears
I owe you an explanation for every time I flash back to nights where my shoulders painted eggshell walls of white with red
I owe you an explanation as to why I can’t let you go on an escalator first – my fear of heights was induced by her
My fear of life was induced by her
I’ve found weakness in her vengeance
But yet I owe you an explanation as to why I opened arms to her braided tears at midnight

I was tied too tight to her inconsistent guidelines
Because if no one could see us
Then it wasn’t really there
Played hide and seek with our emotions
Covered eyes mouths and ears

And perhaps there were better ways for first relationships to go
But I let go of cartoons and held on to the animations of her mind
You see she was my childhood
Ripped from playground sets of sexual exploration
Immatured relation-ships-sank

to bloody bath tub waters
Slit verbal cists into my wrists
With every dialect she knew
Blind eyes fueled deaf mouths of split tongues where stitched ears refused to see truth

She spoke to the tremblings of my fetaled heart
Her makeup was in her kisses
Foundation of excuses
Upon mascarad alliterations

Altercation
contention
Verbal opposition
An oral disagreement
Argument

Led to violence
More than words ever should.
And across the ruins of my childhood
We finger-painted
I.O.U.