It is a lovely FEELING...
ur words excite the body, FullFILLING...
let the spine take record of emotions...
unpraised emotions, stressed now orgasms limp,
the hi left as soon as it came bye.
Repeat, they must call retreat,
love misunderstood just like movies constantly reeling
something about these words they all are FEARING.......LADY V
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
ESCAPING.....
It takes more energy to cry than it does to fight.
Iv'e made myself like brick so that time wud win,
only to be stared @ w/ eyes highlighted by dark rings,
fatigued w/ yearn.
See how my life done had its way w/o my choice
just barely pushin b/c it takes more energy cry,
barely quiting b/c foundations chase me instead,
the hatred that can construe you to see red pour down my eyes.
I have never hated the black man for his absence b/c he is
always present, I never hated his choice of reason like I
once did this rebel voice, just overstood that one day we
were to dance.......one day we were gonna dance....
Like Lackawana's own my nanny sheilded me and that future of mine
made me feel important, made me feel secure that one day
my children would spread their arms like sunshine,
and to catch their falls, tales, and doodles of sublime
a figure so familiar rest and assurance ooze their pores,
no reasons for their mother's scorn.
My chamber harbors these curtains that are always drawn back,
the music tracing their walls lolled me to inquiry,
I was w/o something I i fought myself to crave.
At that window I sat all expectant for The Lost Boy's and Girls,
to help me pretend memories to current existance- my world.
I hurt morally for the women who's loose ends ripple
attractively in the wind, b/c to the man looking to fix
there will always be that fowl stench of a past lingering.
Iv'e made myself like brick so that time wud win,
only to be stared @ w/ eyes highlighted by dark rings,
fatigued w/ yearn.
See how my life done had its way w/o my choice
just barely pushin b/c it takes more energy cry,
barely quiting b/c foundations chase me instead,
the hatred that can construe you to see red pour down my eyes.
I have never hated the black man for his absence b/c he is
always present, I never hated his choice of reason like I
once did this rebel voice, just overstood that one day we
were to dance.......one day we were gonna dance....
Like Lackawana's own my nanny sheilded me and that future of mine
made me feel important, made me feel secure that one day
my children would spread their arms like sunshine,
and to catch their falls, tales, and doodles of sublime
a figure so familiar rest and assurance ooze their pores,
no reasons for their mother's scorn.
My chamber harbors these curtains that are always drawn back,
the music tracing their walls lolled me to inquiry,
I was w/o something I i fought myself to crave.
At that window I sat all expectant for The Lost Boy's and Girls,
to help me pretend memories to current existance- my world.
I hurt morally for the women who's loose ends ripple
attractively in the wind, b/c to the man looking to fix
there will always be that fowl stench of a past lingering.
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