Looking at you without Looking at you

I can look at you and it does not hurt anymore. I can look at you and my mind doesn't turn to a VCR full of replays on a tape. I can look at you and smile; the same smile almost as before and not want to come back to reality. I can look at you,you and it does not hurt anymore, because when I look at you, you're no longer the person that hurt me anymore. I had to look past that as you look at you. Cause if I didn't, if I didn't turn you into a different person when it would still hurt.

This charade is not

This charade is not

ew, nothing new. She's

learned to shove a smile

on her face at a drop of a hat.

She's learned how to make this smile

realistic & believable, you'll never know,

unless you know.

Maybe she doesn't pray enough

Maybe she doesn't pray enough. or maybe she does, just not on the right stuff. her prayers are found somewhere between repetitive and heartfelts. maybe she doesn't pray enough. cause sometimes she believes in prayer or more for her and the Creator, but even when she fears her sin has made her words rough; she's a poet sure, but sometimes her written words are sweet compared to the blabbering idiotic spoken word that leave her feeling handcuffed to not being good enough. maybe she doesn't pray enough or maybe she does just not on the right stuff

Washed My Hands of You

I promise you

I was fine.

I promise you

that I was

over it. 

  

           That

the cut had

scabbed over.

 

That I told

myself not

to pick at it &

let it heat. 

I promise you

it healed, when you

were gone it was

easier to say so,

but when you

wondered ack

in the fake skin,

the skin I thought

had healed fell off

like an overused 

bandage & showed

this hole

still embedded

inside of me.

Solid Ground, Not a Soft Place to Land

She can't walk

it's not because

she's not standing

on solid ground,but because she

fearshat if she walks she'll trip & 

fall on this solid

ground it's not a soft

place to land

Reverie

Where should I turn

from here? Take a

left turn from memory lane &

a sharp left at

dejavu. This map of mind

in hand does

not have the 

little street Taco cart

that's been the fork

in the road, but I eard

that it is good. I used

to follow the stars till 

it became a resident here,

the North Star

materialized here & there 

as different people.

It acts a my

heart at times I feel

whole with it.

This wind is pulling

me whimsical, I don't

want to find my way

here or there

“noun a state of being pleasantly lost in our thoughts,

all most like dreaming”

Arcane

She smiles at

you from across the

room, she smile from

a safe distance where

you can't see what

she's really thinking.

Her smile says more

than words could but

whenever your closer, she's 

speechless & will just

look you in the eyes

hoping that somehow

you'll be able to translate it.

You'll only ever know her name 

if she has her way, but you

really don't want more than that because 

it keeps you guessing.

Her eyes plays tricks on you

pulling you infor more,

more questions that she'll never answer.

Only a few knows of her & her shadows,

only a few has had 

conversations with both.

You haven't & never will.

-Arcane ‘adj' secret,mysterious understood by a few