it's here
that time in a relationship
where i fuck up
scripted or not here is the time when....shit happens
i am aware of it
i put the training wheels on my tongue
to make sure i'm careful with my words
i unlocked the door that covers my heart
left it cracked
heard it's sexy that way
i listened
i laughed
i was good
really good
then that feeling
not earth shattering
but different
like everything shifted
and i'm still the star in this
movie the relationship
but i am also black
you know what that means
i could be killed off at anytime and
left to appear in my relationship as a flashback
or a recent, not too distant memory
i should fire the director
i could save the day
i know i can hell i'm the star
i set this movie in motion
so, i'll flip the script
i'll fling open the door to my heart
i'll lose the damn training wheels
i'll be bad
really bad in that lick your lips
anticipation
kinda way
cause i'll be damned if i'll sit in the audience of my relationship
trying to spot my name
in the credits
as they speed by
1 comment:
Wow. So life tugs and pulls and hands down its questions. I search the horizon for signs..omens.. Leaning forward, I try to lip-read but can't tell the half-truths from cereal box ingredients..where the hell did I put my glasses?
Then I find it. The message I needed, the clarity my soul was banging its cup across this ribcage prison for. Where? Here. In a poem by a woman I've never met. On a blog I only found because I was homesick and looking for poets from Atlanta. Thank you, dear lady. You had something I just really needed to hear.
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