Stories of Becoming

Odd Years
A New-Found Truth
Disconnection
Your Mother
Checking In
Even Years
Signs
It’s Physically Painful…
I’m Not the Going Out Type
Feather Tattoo
A Jewel So Rare
Sunrise

Odd Years

The day you decided to become yourself was the day they declared you were odd.

And the days of becoming became years of confusion,
depression,
and pain,
yet enlightened you to a truth more profound than you desired to manifest.

It’s terrifying.

You’re not the status quo nor the ideal image of the world you’re forced to live,
and embracing the thoughts that you will never be is at first damning,
then fortunate.

The years are hard,
draining,
yet you miss them when they’re over.

Isn’t it odd?

Reflecting on those years,
smiling,
as if they were the best times of your life?

A New-Found Truth

Stability is a definition he’s only seen printed,
never experienced for its anecdotal meaning.

Building a foundation of ideals from those who judge outside the norm,
he’s forced into contentment instead of genuine comfort.

It’s an understood truth that he’s accepted to progress,
but when desires emerge
sabotage is evident as a defense of his fears.

Insecurity is a subconscious fear that numbs the heart to idealistic satisfaction.

His aspiration of genuine happiness is flawed,
yet he constructs and executes his masculinity through the direction of the generation before
that never knew the origin of their influence.

It’s a new-found truth he’s accepted to progress,

but when striking fear arises,
he finds validity in his truth…

 

 

in her responses.

Disconnection

Their disconnection was gradual.

Their simple farewell wasn’t said overnight.

It happened when he missed the first time her rebuttal was silence from one of his responses.
The questions stopped and she no longer sought for answers.

It happened when she blew off an emotion he expressed after he finally worked up the courage to say something so frightful to bring forward.

He shut down and never brought up his thoughts again,
masking and repressing his feelings
and finding harmful ways to heal.

Large spaces become smaller when they’re present.
Their noises sound louder when sleeping at night.
Their taste isn’t as sweet.
Their scent is no longer pleasant.
The vision they once had for one another
is no longer clear.

Their disconnection is sudden once the decision is made.

One person gives up without warning
while the other knew days before.

Eyes with passion dim when they look at the other.
Lips mouth words more harmful than pure.
Feet move slower,
in opposite directions
of the once significant other.

He leaves her,
but she was already gone.

No fight in either as they said their goodbyes out loud,
instead of inside
like the days before.

Your Mother

Your mother was right when she said protect your heart,
but you question her methods.

She leads by example through emotional repression, moving forward quickly even when the pain is still tearing her apart.

Her decisions were made throughout emotional turmoil,
never able to separate smarts with damaged hearts,
which convinced her to stay longer,
break deeper
fall further.

But she’s resilient,
and a message you relay to your unborn children when you share fables of strong women.

Her days are spent surviving,
your days are spent thriving,

because she wasn’t only defending her damaged heart,
but protecting your pure one.

Checking In

He knew he was favored by God, but rarely checked in,
causing him to be misled by blessings and solutions.

His lack of discernment built worldly confidence while he neglected his soul,
not knowing if his prayers were directed to God or Satan,
the one who’d always listen while expressing his desires.

He knew contentment but never joy,
causing his aspirations to continuously be chased by outward perceptions and never gaining ease
from pain, journeys or triumphs.

Checking in, he knows not to whom he speaks.
Unaware if he now serves the one who blesses him,
or the one who listened and brought unstable solutions.

Even Years

And for the days you want to get even from all the wrongdoings,
know that it can turn into years.

And those years can cause blocked blessings and missed lessons,

for the odd years you reap what you were so determined to give in the even…

… the years you learn to fall
and catch yourself.

Signs

You ask God for some kind of indication,
assurance or peace.

Something you can feel.

So that you can get validation that He’s heard the same prayer you’ve prayed over and over.

You need the passion inside you fueled,
because the flame once ignited is dimming once you saw your dream,
your goal,
your idea,
obtained by someone else.

It’s Physically Painful…

… but easy once giving in.

Once you let the pain rip through your chest,
right after you let that devil take your soul and watch him physically destroy your being through visions that bring to light the realization that your heart is broken.

Through touch you learn what it actually means.

The touch of serenity that crumbles into chaos as soon as it hits you from every angle at once.

Your chest goes through dilemma,
unable to be healed by simple affirmations, forcing you to endure every sharp,
finger-gripping,
burning tear within your ribs.
It travels to your lunges halting breaths and relief.

Once suffocating, moving to the lower crevices of your spine,
making you unable to sit or stand straight even though you must force yourself to do so because of the daily survivals of this life.

You’re not physically sick,
but it attack’s your body like a damning plague with no cure,
unable to treat no matter how much self-care advice you research or lavender baths that turn your once smooth skin to prunes from sinking into a tub deeper and deeper
hoping the more you’re submerged,
the less the pain you’ll have to endure.

You fight back tears because you’re black and strong,
so the pain builds heavier because the only place it knows how to escape inside you is blocked
by fear of shame,
from a single, falling tear.

You’re silent more around loves.

Your favorite food is bitter.

Your favorite song sounds like noise,
and you’re no longer find comfort in your favorite place.

You’ve consumed the pain so immensely that the slightest glimpse of happiness anywhere hurts.

You beg for some kind of peace.

The touch of another may mask the one who harmed you.

The words from the lips you kiss may mask the one who spoke you ill.

Your will is no longer willing.
It’s becoming a struggle to hide.

You lash out.
Scream,
out.

Until the day it becomes clear.

You’re broken.

On the first day you begin to heal.

I’m Not the Going Out Type

I’m not the going out type.

I like playing in makeup,
but finding an outfit to compliment the body that’s finally saying I’m a woman is stressful.

I’d rather lie on my couch with you.

Relax
Drink
Vibe
Watch.

But I have to go out to find you.

Meet your vibe.
Learn how to make your favorite drink.
Watch you while you’re watching our favorite show.
But I hate that I have to search for you in this large city,
which was never intimidating until I knew I wanted you.

Feather Tattoo

She wanted a feather tattoo on her right side under the Bible verse she thought validated the reason for injecting ink on her temple.

But right under that tattoo is a thick, black line of insecurity created from the first person to keep her shirt on after he finally knocked down her walls and saw her most vulnerable.

She wore his T-Shirts that fit perfectly on the strong back she liked to rub that stretched a little on the arms she loved to be held in while she fell asleep on his chest.

Those shirts looked oversized on her while she drank her favorite wine
while being away from him for months when currency called.

His shirts fit tighter and tighter on her while she waited on his return,
with that line growing bolder, more uneven under the tattoo that once complimented its placement.

He returned to see the thick line bolder, leaving the shirts,
not saying a word.

She threw the shirts away along with the memories and the thick line softly faded into her skin,
but permanently deep black on both ends of its direction.

The tattoo regains it’s meaning
and the space under smooth to touch along with the new favorite place
her new love demands to hold
when he perfectly positions her in the vulnerability she desires to show him after he shows her he loves her.

She embraces the line,
welcomes the lines,
while enjoying every inch of his blessing.

A Jewel So Rare

To the only girl who has touched my heart,
who warms my soul every time your presence is near.
thank you for being unapologetically you and helping me unlearn the negatives that the generation before taught us.

Thank you for embracing who you are and unknowingly being a role model to me in my journey
of becoming… me.

You’re a light that should shine brighter.

You’re a song that’s melody is unmatched.

You’re the slack that appears right when you need relief of the pressures of this life.
You’re the mirror of morality and the good the world forgets.

For the girl who warms my heart with just a thought of your smile,
thank you for the days I didn’t know I needed.

Thank you for the texts that uplifted my worst moods and removed me from my own thoughts.

Thank you for the uninterrupted time that I will forever cherish.

For the girl who is still becoming,
know that you are a gem.
A treasure most cherished and a jewel so rare.

I beg you know your worth.

I beg you know you’re worth the time.

I beg you know you are irreplaceable.

You are what the world needs,
a guide to genuine truth,
leading the way with your light.

Sunrise

The east is alive while the west still slumbers
waking the sky before me
knowing you’re creating the days as my eyes slowly open.