It was he that bruised me black and blue,
though his fist he did not use.
My rainbow turned to shades of grey,
wondering if I could face another day.
See he attacked my intellect,
and opened my eyes to self-regret.
Driving many blows to my gut,
making me wonder what was what.
Over and over, he punched my soul,
until I questioned myself as a whole.
Fed my mind loaded blanks,
leaving me empty with only self to thank.
For it was me that allowed him in,
and took the strikes again and again.
It was in he I thought I'd find myself,
not realizing my thoughts were so far left.
I knew I had to get it right,
so I pulled myself up with all my might.
Then I pulled myself inside-out,
to face the pain my spirit did bout.
Up and down and down and up,
riding that internal roller-coaster was just my luck.
But I held on for sweet dear-life,
and when the bumps came, I had no strife.
I found my own colors to be true,
pretty reds, bold browns, and deep blues.
They always seemed to be shining through.
It was just up to me to do what I knew to do.
Tanette
2010
I fell in love with his words...
Thick, lofty, opaque...
sealed with a mystic,
hypnotic excellence
that intrigued my heart.
Zapped through cellular lines
and sing-sung to me
on lonesome nights.
The grace of each syllable
he spoke seemed to lull
every part of my being.
It was the craft of his speech
and the pace of his tongue that
drew me in.
I noticed I felt comfort in them.
Found myself knee deep,
bathing in the brilliance
of their continuity.
Yes, the sound of his voice
got me,
good.
Got me all tangled up in
the illusion of what might be.
Leaving my reality
hanging in the bounds...
I fell in love with his words...
Bold, stocky, bright,
beaming with authenticity,
at first.
It was the sculpted sentences
stringed together by he,
that outlined
my pillow at night.
Giving me sweet dreams
of what love,
seemed to be.
Until each word he spoke,
seemed to slither
a downward spiral,
unkempt and messy.
Though I continued to hold on to each part
of his speech, hoping that they
would mirror the stride of his walk.
See, I fell in love with a man
for his words.
Fell head over heels
for the possibility...
Until the words he spoke
were unparalleled to his actions.
Until whatever trudged across his tongue
made me cringe with heartache.
Until hearing his voice became a nagging
sounding note to my eardrum.
Until his presence made me numb, and
I could no longer stand the feel of his tongue
on my tongue.
So I loosed the grip of his repeated verses
from around my soul,
and rejected the bitter-
sweet nothings embedded
in my heart
Instead I began to listen to me-
reflect on the neglect
and I fell in love with
words of my own.
Became seduced by the thought of
liberating, kick-his tail to the curb
lines practiced in my head.
When all his words to me
became shriveled and used up...
In the end it was
my own words
that got me through it...
When his words were no longer spoken
Tanette
2012
Just yesterday...
I forgot his existence.
Had a fresh vacancy
for someone else
to move in.
So I, got lost
in the me of things.
Took the time
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to soak my feet tender.
Painting them a relieving red,
if that makes any sense.
I just feel better when
my feet are colored, smooth.
Like to press the meat of my fingers
across the shiny lacquered tops.
It felt good to feel good
about me again.
Riding down 65th street,
listening to nothing but the
beat of the wind, cool
spaces of air meeting
cheek. Didn't even need my music.
I was already calm.
When I looked over to
my passenger side,
I happened to see it
full view. It was that
thing, he always wanted,
a Cadillac-something or another,
Misty Blue.
Just one thing,
on the list of things
he wanted, never
tried hard enough to get.
When I saw it, I didn't
see the driver, just it,
and the cool blue seemed
to run through me
like a bad vibe.
Tanette
2007
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