Everyday words

My definition of everyday words gets rewritten and revised to acclimate it to my current understanding of the word to mean.

Love; just two years ago long before I stepped foot into your life, before the pain and heartaches, before the experiences that lead me to it all; mean that I'd do anything for someone, get smacked in the face, and return to them with the loyalty of a golden retriever or a labrador.

Love means keeping my mouth shut till my love wants a kiss that involves tongue or wants conversation where I'd only occasionally get the chance to say "yeah" "I understand," or " no problem." in.

I soon had to find out that love can only take, but so much disrespect, can only get smacked in the face or considered an afterthought for so long.

Love can only be the second choice till all the first choices run out.

Love now; has deemed itself the author of the dictionary that you are trying to read now.

Please understand that this addition might not have the words 'you & I' as a pair anymore.

A relationship is defined as what's earned between two people.

Me... Me is defined as the only one who hasn't left, the one who... picked up the mess that everyone seems to leave behind, the one who's always there but comes home to the empty side of her bed and looks at her like a sad cat "Why didn't you give me attention?"

Love; two years ago would have asked what more could it have done for someone to stay. Would have asked for way more than a second chance which is more than is normally deserved, but now it'll tell you it felt the sting of you leaving as soon as they said hi.

‘Lord, I am not just tired I am sick’

 ‘Lord, I am not just tired I am sick’

with your presence that I feel so strongly on some days

I feel nothing but gravity on other days 

Where are you on the days when the world you created ends up feeling like another textbook I have to fit into my bookbag?

On days all I can hear is the negative self-talk and the even more negative talk that drowns that out at times.

Where are you when the parents that you created and gifted me drown out the sound of the voice you made for me?

Lord, I am not tired, I am sick of having to choose my own battle of having to pick the wrong ones to have to learn some absurd lessons that are hiding out of sight.

Lord, I am sick of having to get hurt to somehow better myself as if there's ever really any more of myself to better after the pain is said and done.

Lord I am not just tired, I am not just weak, Lord I am sick of being sick of healing from being sick. I am tired of having to fight myself to get some rest at night just so tomorrow could be another waste of time. 

I'm sick of looking in the mirror and not knowing who I am on any given day or not knowing what is my purpose here.

My Intro and Words of wisdom to freshmens A performative piece

 Tap tap, is this thing on?

Knock knock is everyone home?

Now of course before you let me in I must introduce myself.

Hi, Hello, Holla!

My name is Christyn, but you all can just call me Chrissy.

I'm 23 years old not that it's any business of yours, but it's to say without having to tell you outright that  ‘no’ you can not ask me out. 

I've been here for almost four years, I'm on my fourth now, one more semester to go and I'll be leaving out of the same room I entered, the same door you came through, the same door you'll soon leave through.

Ok story time it's 2019,

So as I take a step back, relax, allow me to enlighten you, and tell you where I've come from.

Born and raised in Wilkinsburg, where I'm from there's cookie cutter people, identical goals and admirations,

it's the same story to get out and spread my wings.

Folks raised me right, see I'm standing here tall, confident, my hair done and make-up is on, I'm ready.

Let's let you in on a little joke.

Even though the room was set up differently,

Even though the room I once sat in was on a different floor,

It wasn't all that long ago that where you sit now I used to set too.

Something even funnier, you're not too far off from standing where I am now,

no not necessarily in front of a class, but three years down the line adult life will be waiting for you outside these four walls.

Hey, can I let you in on a little secret this life isn't gonna drag on for as long as high school did.

You blink once a little too long and all this might just be gone.

So this luxury that you love now, will soon become a dream come and gone.

Imagine this a year ago you were still more of a kid to the world, in someone's eyes, you still needed them.

Transportation, housing, food, someone out there had you, but here you fed for yourself, find food and groceries for yourself, manage the time between school, getting to class on time, turning assignments in on time and socialized, hanging out with friends, learning where you belong in the world as the person you are now and who you want to be later on, by yourself.

My friends remember that these times are supposed to be challenging, but not every grade has to be an 'A' that every assignment needs to be a 10/10. Look in the mirror and remind yourself, as long as you are trying and your heart is your accountability partner that you're on the right track. My friends, 

I wish I knew this and heeded this information where you are now, I wish that my group of friends and I had fewer times of stress and doubt.

My friends, cherish these moments.

A Conversation With Broken Inner Child to Currently Trying to Heal Self

Who are you?

She says,

‘stop looking in the mirror so often,’

I tell her,

‘then I wouldn’t be able to see you as often’

She tells me,

‘There’s not much to see’

I tell her,

‘I see you just fine’

She responds by telling me

‘You only see what you want. You’re in denial. The world you and I grew fond of in fairytales never lives beyond the page. You are not going to go out and find the end of a rainbow. You will not gonna be able to make a wish on a star our life become all better.

Tells me that the person that I keep trying to see

‘hasn’t been at this address for years now’

I asked her,

‘Where did she go?’

She laughs and says,

‘the fact that you don’t know the answer to your own question only proves my point’

I ask her that

‘if she isn’t here anymore then who lives here now?’

She stops laughing,

tells me to look back into the mirror

I see no one

I ask her 

‘Where did my reflection go?’

 She starts to laugh again.

Her laugh is more sinister this time,

I feel it in the depths of my stomach,

my heart begins to race,

my chest,

my ribcage working together to keep my heart in place.

She tells me

to come closer so that I can hear her,

She tells me,

‘that this is what I have been trying to tell you’

Tells me that

I am once again too damn naive &

needs to learn how to shut my mouth,

Says to

‘Stop looking in the mirror so much’

I ask her to,

‘tell me I’m on the right track’

Asked her to,

‘tell me I’m beautiful’

Asked her,

‘Are you proud of who you’ve become?’

She shows me the reflection of who I used to be in the form of pictures,

tells me that this person never had a chance

I tell her

‘I wish that she could know that the person that she was will eventually turn into who I am now, and that I will turn into someone later down the road and we’ll have this conversation again.’

Holiest Unholy Water

I think that it is 

outrageously religious 

that I love you like this,

that I love you this strongly.

I trust you unquestioned 

as if somewhere in the ingredients 

that was needed for God’s creation of me

called for your name on the tip of my tongue like saliva 

from craving a dessert you hadn’t had available to you before

not only curving my 19 year long drought-like thirst, but

baptizing my existence with the unholy-holy water

that excretes out of your body like 

heated, passionate, sex sweat

my arms, my body, and my being yearning for you, 

all that you are in the wild scheme of things &

all that I could confidently say 

you could be … 

the puzzle piece of a jigsaw puzzle 

anti-fantasy adult life has been tossed to the side,

completely forgotten.

Holy water 

the puddle of it

that I’d find myself

sitting in puddles of after every conversation 

with you.

Almost as if being a sponge

that’s absorbed too much of its substance

after moments of being shown a love

that seemed more of a routine or an act for you &

what you should have been showing yourself.

Almost as someone who needs to cleanse 

after life-threatening heartbreak after experiencing a conversation

that couldn’t imaginably have gone worse.

I think that it is 

outrageously religious

that I trust you unquestioned without a second thought like this

that I’d allow you to slap my ass,

without even a fleeting thought 

of wanting to fulfill an equal slap to your face,

pull my hair - messing it up

from my neatly slicked back, shiny tied back ponytail

displaying the art of giving me a bedhead

with no bed in sight and no bed needed,

that I’d allow you to kiss me, kissing my neck 

inducing premature heart attack from fear of showing  

like I was yours

(later on, we both found out that I was not)

like you wanted your lips to taunt and tease me like tickles

that like to turn to ghosts and haunt me only when authority can chastise me,

allowing you to warm my neck

with the singular force of your hand and each digit on it

just tight enough that it reminds my lungs in this split second

if I wasn’t in the safety of -Yours- that my lugs would never again

be able to indulge in their love for the taste of air.

Holy water 

an oasis of it

that I’d find myself

after fighting, pushing my bodies weight

holding myself back, using all forces 

to clamp both rows of teeth on a tongue that wants to be unruly

speaking a mind that does not belong to itself

wanting to tell you stuff that you wouldn’t listen to

things we later on said, but blew off as expected. 

Holy water

a memory foam pillow absorbed with it

years after trying to digest this relationship 

what it used to be or 

how the infatuation of you 

once equaled what could have been

"Can You're Heartbeats Speak Louder Than Words?"

No, but my tears would baptize you,

let the bitter-sweet salt stain your clothes 

as a reminder of the day you told me that you would never leave,

let the empty bottles of laundry detergent serve 

as breadcrumbs down the path, you ran away from me on.

"Does Your Heart Have its Own Language?"

I can only imagine it does, she weeps in silence &

has only started talking to my mind to confide in.

Only they had been friends often & 

odds with each other since I was conceived.

It's almost funny when they decide to throw me into a 

two-against-one war-style battle as if they do not 

know they would always lose when they 

use me as the battleground for their warfare.

Knowledge Which Cost Nothing

Note To Self

Go With Your Heart

Tell Your Story

She wondered if she was dreaming 

by the light of the moon.

To let go with the heart,

there seemed no more to say,

see the silver stars loving heart,

at one time not so long ago,

perfectly happy, she kept her word.

To dream of all the happy days, 

All the beautiful stars of the sky,

she had a feeling

For thy sweet love remembered the sweet

price of life.

For we carry the heavens with us.

Hello Friend

Collector Of Memories

Create Art

Listen To Your Heart

Every word,

heart to hearth

thinking of earlier days,

a beautiful home

dreams come true to tell the world,

a glimpse of heaven

A sister’s hand

traveling companion

the winding garden path.

The Bad That The Good Contains

 “The Sunny Days the World Creates,”

“Containing The Rainy Days We Create,”

consisting of the rays of sun

that’ll kiss your face,

consisting of the days the suns not out and 

one’s own hope isn’t bright enough to

stand in its place,

consisting of the happy-go-lucky

charismatic I got this and

everything after this attitude,

consisting of the cramping in our stomachs and 

the sweaty stress when we can’t look past our now

the cheerful wind blowing through the 

branches of a tree waving at you and

making you feel seen,

the gust of wind that’ll push right past you and 

hiss get out the way like a high school bully,

the cloudy days that were forecast, but

dared not to show,

 the thunderstorms we saw in the forecast, but

act surprised by its arrival,

the little things that you see throughout 

the day that shows God’s right there,

the shadows that lurk behind the scene 

that makes you feel alone,

the moments when we hum a tune 

that gets stuck in everyone's head,

the moments when we push words 

to the back of our throats and 

swallow hard as if taking pills,

the painted skies filled with other

pieces of artwork,

the moments when the clouds mock you and 

hide it all from you,

the stars that act as lanterns 

on the darkest nights,

the moments when it’s so dark

the moon’s glow doesn’t seem to help 

see where you’re going,

the booming smile,

the silent tears,

never forgetting the times you can’t help,

but be grateful that you made it this far and

didn’t have to do any of it alone,

being aware of, but ignoring the

enter at your own risk signs that line the path, but

find yourself wondering how you found yourself at a cliff.

  

“Fragile”,

is beautiful when it doesn’t have to worry about breaking, 

see fragile sit on the shelve and collect dust, 

see fragile bite its tongue and know what it is, 

have fragile wear a sign to bring attention to it, 

see fragile be vulnerable and shattered, 

yet have knowledge on how to put itself back together, 

see fragile, think of glass, think of figurine, think of a mirror, 

think of what you see in a mirror when you look into one, see…

fragile…