Talk

I never been one for, small talk.

For the most part, I speak to express my feelings.

[Something that took, recovery and years of therapy]

Why I think I listen, with a compassionate ear.

But what warrants a, turned up mouth or rolling eyes, when one speaks?

Some say they care.

It seems true.

Long enough to have their wants or needs, satisfied.

So, don’t ask me why, when I become silent.

Remember, I spoke.

You didn’t listen.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fifteen years

I never wanted my fifteen year relationship to end. I would still be in it, had I not start loving myself. I appreciate the benefits of both, a relationship and being single.

It’ll be two years, the sixth of this month. The day I decided to engross myself, into something, that would take my mind off of you.

Two years later, I’m healthier (for the most part) confirming that, that

was the right decision.

But still, I miss you. And love you, as much as I did, the first time I met you.

I think of you, when I see couples.

Or Singles.

And why wouldn’t this be?

It was thirty years ago, that we met.

[You didn’t know it, but it was then that, I had a crush on you]

We would meet again, in fifteen years.

And it wasn’t until today, I realized.

Fifteen years (two years ago) marked the anniversary of our “Involvement.”

And the ending of it.

I regret neither.

I just wish I could stop, thinking about you.

And wanting you.

I know it will take time.

I just hope it doesn’t take

fifteen years!

Bipolar

I wish I could turn my brain off, so it could rest.

That I could stop, thinking about the issues, I’m forced to think about, as a black person, in this, united states.

I wish I could tell my brain to calm down, it’s not urgent and that I don’t have to do everything, all at the same time.

I wish I knew why, I get emotional and cry, for no particular reason, like now.

Like earlier.

Why can’t I, not think about death?

And why does a long life, seems like a death sentence to me?

Why does getting well means, being a pharmaceutical guinea pig?

Why can’t I just be, Well?

So, What does that mean?

Everybody has, I’m sure, experienced, calling out to someone, thinking it was someone you knew.

Or, running into somebody, you do know. You’re excited.

And they act, indifferent.

My pastor, today, did a great

Illustration, of how I was made to feel, recently.

She demonstrated, having been given a gift,

And telling the gifter, “No, I don’t think so. I don’t want it.”

That we are doing that, when we don’t,

Take heed (have faith and follow through, etc)

I attempted to give a gift and the gift was, declined.

Now, I realize, At my, what would be an appropriate word? At my Illiest, I know I can be, overly sensitive.

But, I think not, in this case.

Because, I saw the same gift given, received and accepted (by someone, other than me)

Period.

It makes me think, in another time,

and if time permitted, I would only be

permitted to enter your home, through

the back door!

Unfortunately, You aren’t the only one,

That makes me feel this way.