afro blue

afro blue


Ask me a question

who am i?

who am i?


(via silvabr0o0r9)



SO MANY


complete your self

Complete Yourself

You see my eyelids like butterfly wings
stilled on flowering cheeks,
you lie so still
hoping they’ll land on you.

But I never was anything so peaceful;
I am not the color of my cheeks.

I don’t remember stepping into this light
to read lines,
but I’ve already got the role.

You love me like stars.
You love me like looking back.
You love me like a compliment—

like I fit into you—
a seed you swallow,
plant in your esophagus—
and grow within you.

You make me a moon
just your size to eclipse your light.
(I’d rather be a shape that won’t stack with yours—
I want everything of me to show).

You reduce me to tides
And I push into you, pull away,
push you to throw your mother’s music box
out the second story window
and drive to Sunoco for a pack of Newports,
though you quit 8 months ago.

I don’t laugh like skips of sunlight
off the Swarovski crystal hung in the rearview mirror.
It’s just a sound in my throat.

Sometimes I think
you think
you produced that sound:
stuck a nickel in my ear;
pressed play, repeat—
your favorite song.

I breathe out carbon dioxide;
I won’t breathe your oxygen.
I won’t try to give your heart a beat.

I cross my arms around my chest,
reaching nails in my back,
checking for wings.

I want to rip open my skin and show you my spine—
how it doesn’t have your signature on it,

how I’m a quarter-broken inside,
the way you are a quarter-broken inside.
How I’m breathing my way
through my own life

how that life doesn’t exist
as a completion to yours.