wings.

I know how it feels when the night demons come. We can’t let them control our hands and feet. Sometimes when it hurts so bad we have to just lay in the bed. Just lay in bed and don’t move Please, I know how it feels. I wish McQueen could have just been still. Don’t let the psychiatrists give you their drugs because it slows down your wings. Society and public opinion can beat the wings off of angels. When God sees they can’t take it anymore, he brings them home.

i live for you yé

Even after all this time
the sun never says to the earth,
"You owe Me."

Look what happens with
a love like that,
it lights the Whole Sky.

-Hafiz

I know he don't like it, but I cried because... as smart as I am, I still have trouble processing that another human being is capable of loving me as much as I have the capacity to love him. And to hear him say it, over and over, was really overwhelming. Like, i remember hearing someone say, I was never in love with you. That felt like being punched in the chest so hard your wind got knocked out of you and then, just when you thought you caught your breathe... it still throbs. But hearing "I love you" meaningfully, and repeatedly- felt like the moments when I got my breath back. Intense... and maybe a little painful too. Not because it hurt to be alive, but cause being dead before was so excruciating. thank you for that.

picture paragraphs unloaded

At some point in life the world's beauty becomes enough. You don't need to photograph, paint or even remember it. It is enough. No record of it needs to be kept and you don't need someone to share it with or tell it to. When that happens — that letting go — you let go because you can.

Toni Morrison.

on love.

love is patient.

you held my hand as we waited
staring at a busy intersection,
the seconds ticking down on the crosswalk,
soon time would stop,
the cars would stand motionless,
and it would be our time.
distracted by the world surrounding us,
the grip you had on my palm
came as a surprise,
the only proof i had you were even there,
was the impression you left
across my skin
staring at this extremity,
i saw a long life,
and the red rings you left,
the throbbing from blood rushing to my fingertips,
put you in it-
if only for the moment we waited to cross.

love is kind.

the moment my perception went from yellow to red,
i felt it was time to let go,
even if i didn't feel safe,
i was accustomed to going alone,
assured that all i'd have left after these 30 seconds
was another 30 to walk on without you.
my sunshine would set,
and i'd navigate the darkness,
with two free hands.
having both allowed me to feel more.
but you help tighter,
and the impression you left on me,
sunk far deeper than the flesh.
for so long i felt i was stronger
for walking with two free hands,
when i finally realized that if I held yours,
i had three....
and i could conquer anything
that threatened my journey.
and with my new found vision,
i could see that I didn't have to run alone,
if we could walk together.
the world would have to wait for us.

love, is not self seeking.

we reached the other side of the street,
stronger than when our journey started,
still giving bits of ourselves
to hold on to our grasp,
I found that the support I got from our union,
the fist we formed,
if kept together could fight off any threat,
I offered my wrist
so we'd be more flexible,
my forearm so we'd be able to hit harder,
my elbow so we could lift each other up,
and my shoulder so we could hold each other.
all i ever hoped was that neither of us would let go.

love does not envy.

my desires included your happiness
and the more power i saw in us,
the more of you i wanted.
i began to fear walking alone
in the shadow of the power of our footsteps.
there is no love in fear.
i wanted from you
what only time could give
i saw different parts of the world
take your eyes,
grab at your ears,
possess your mind,
and suddenly-
your hand just didn't seem enough,
so focused on
holding one of your hands on our journey,
i never noticed
you used your other to hand me your heart.

love does not delight in evil.

we are imperfect
and often fail to see,
how wanting so badly to keep walking
hand in hand,
can hurt us.
instead of walking around adversity together,
fear sent us running in opposite directions.
we pulled each other toward misery
when our vision was to walk all along.
if i was looking with my heart,
i'd give you my hand willingly,
feel with one,
allow a part of me to be missing,
before i'd ever cause you any pain

love is enduring.

as we continue our walk,
we face insurmountable odds,
but what i will always appreciate,
is that after every obstacle,
after every block,
at each intersection,
i look toward our journey,
past the mountains and mole hills,
glance down at our hands
see past the scratches and bruises,
and see LOVE in their determination
to hold on.
like the fingerprints you left on me,
without once breaking my skin,

love, always protects.

in the past,
when life was too much
and I felt I could no longer give enough,
i believed fear kept me going.
too scared to end it all,
too wracked with guilt to disappear,
cowardice kept me alive.
and as i saw our love gasp for air,
i credited the fear of being alone
with fighting to save it.
but fear was not my saviour...
it did not drive me.
love, kept me.
love, kept us.

it. never. fails.

------------------
author's note: this piece was written as a companion to/extension of "on pain." so much has happened since that weekend but, in short... we're still holding hands.

"I allow myself to feel"

I never watch Mo'nique's show but I think today God brought me to it. I watched Jill Scott come out to talk about her current projects. And she just looked so full of God's light that I hesitated at the sight of her happiness. Her afro looked so confident... her face so beautiful... her voice so rich. And Mo asks, how are you inspired to write your music?

She replied, "I allow myself to feel." and with just that sentence, I wept.

I think society, family, friends, and myself have taught me to do just the opposite. when I sink into an impossible state of depression, i'm supposed to put on a happy face. carry on. live. pretend that whatever devastating thing that has happened to me didn't because, feeling- is weakness. and i wish i would have allowed myself to feel more often.

to respond to people who expressed concern for my family that i didn't know if they were ok and i can't watch the news without throwing up from anxiety. or to tell my mother my grades were so shitty my first semester of law school because i was raped two weeks before it started and was too ashamed to tell anyone. to say to the world, behind this facade is a severely wounded woman who does not know how to feel. twitter says, tweet the most wonderful things about yourself and facebook says only tag the most beautiful pictures... because the world only wants to know us at our best selves.

i feel betrayed by someone who i felt was my sister. my first love, was never in love with me. my mother hates her life and constantly expresses regret. my father told her that my graduation pictures look nice because i don't look that dark. and i never really felt any of these things. i never said i bust my ass because i constantly feel like i am not good enough. not for that friend who chose someone else and not for that guy who loves someone else.

my horoscope said tomorrow is a new moon. and with that, i just want to feel. and if i can manage to FEEL my way out of whatever i'm going through, i wont just be here. i'll be present.

wearing this mask, is what i've been taught to do for so long, i forgot it's ok to take it off when i'm home. and wherever we live... blogsphere, twitter, DC, our own minds-- we each deserve to feel. it's the only thing that makes each of us human.

"i tell you, I know everybody’s in the same mess. I’m telling you. We all are. I know that, you know, and I’m just, you know, I’ll be the first to tell you, you know, I’m a mess and God is dealing with me everyday. And everyday I’m trying, you know, how I can be less of a mess. Cuz you know, he showed me, Look Lauryn, you know, You’re the problem, ok, I’m going to show you how you’re causing the problem, and now I want you to be the solution"

and who knows better than lauryn?

2/12/10

I've been in love twice. Got my first boyfriend about 2 months ago. ten months away from 24, five months away from a law degree. i been waiting on him my whole life. to be in love, and have it reciprocated. to hold someone that wants to be held. to be there for someone who needs me. i feel like my entire life i had wonderful friends, loving family, a stellar career and beauty. i worked so hard at being beautiful inside cause i wasn't always beautiful outside and i knew there was no value in that. and finally- finally... i found him. and to this moment i believe when we were born God and fate drew us together. our bodies match, our faces match, our signs match, our futures match... we. just. fit.

and now i've reached a point where i feel that the Gods listened... gave me what i needed so badly, what i prayed for everyday.... and took away everything else. like an addict i got my drug and in the process, lost so much i held so dear. literally watched my country destroyed. dead bodies on street corners. my family.... homeless. listening to my parents weep every. night. hearing reports of more and more bodies found under the remnants of our family homes.

friends i have shared for years... dropping off like flies. and you reach a moment when you say... this. is. not. my. fault. but no one says the rest.... it doesn't matter whose fault it is.... it just plain hurts. it was the sacrifice of abraham... and i rather give my friendship up than see it cut in half. and while all this shit falls down the only shit left standing was us. and to be honest, it called into question everything i've ever thought about happiness. as much as i love him... love is never enough. it's a foundation to be built upon not the whole house. but for every brick we lay down there is someone ripping it away... and sometimes... it's us.

i suppose having everything is impossible... but next time, i know to pray for balance... cause i was never good at playing both sides.

on pain...

I often attach my deepest emotions to pain. My life has been shaped by it, my identity formed in direct opposition to it, and my memories filled with it. For a woman who has accomplished so much, the one thing that has mattered the most, is the thing I believed was the source of my greatest failure: Love. It finally occurred to me that I was always a successful lover, just never been loved. I identify with pain, because in romance... it's all I know.

But like love, pain takes time to grow. To manifest. So you can imagine my surprise that this started that way... he whispered to me, that he was not trying to hurt me. And I said, good, if you could master never hurting me, that'd be perfect. So here we were inches apart... breathing deeply, in sync eyes locked and... it hurt. Hurt. Like I was 16 on a futon with Tupac playin in the background hurt. But he was distant, and I wanted him closer. And slowly, tentatively he pushed. I saw the concern in his eyes and I wanted to say, "baby, pain I can handle." In fact, I've grown to appreciate it... it's the love that's new. But all I could do was shake my head yes.

Oddly enough, it was the most comfortable moment of the weekend. I did not need to think about how to deal with pain. I do that everyday... and in fact, I was aroused by his. And I wanted to experience him in his entirety... especially the pain.

I felt him. He wanted me to SEE him. I was looking. He's one of the most beautiful sights I've ever seen, so this was easy. But in order to truly look at someone... they have to look back at you. Everything you are watching in them they are watching in you. And just as he so desperately wanted me to see him, I wanted him to see me. But every time I've shared myself with someone, every time I've let someone watch my soul... they broke their stare because my eyes were to intense.

Still, here I am painting portraits of him in my mind. His form smoking in front of his kitchen window. His posture relaxed but alert... absorbing a certain understanding of the universe surrounding him. Marveling at his ability to literally hold me together in his sleep. Admiring the way the shape of his eyes change when he talks about his daughter. The amazing disappearing meal, the way he props his head up on his hand when he is really listening to what I have to say. Looking down at his hand entwined with mine while our footsteps and pavement form the background. At one point, as the cross walk warned red, I broke our stride in an effort to rush to the other side. He called for me to come back and kissed me. He said, they can wait for us.

I looked back... and saw him. No stage, no show, just him. I took that moment and bottled it up to take home. Didn't have a purse or pockets so I tucked it in my heart in the midst of all the pain... and somehow, it just fit.

I hope my moments can compete...