herlucidlife

Not all messengers know who needs the words yet obedience to speak lands in their bones they must move in the direction that’s been given. He spoke a word today, I’d been battling circles I like to ride in familiar prisons that seem like home, more homey than God’s hand…it hurts to speak the truth. It hurt even worse to hear you had moved on from me by our dear friend relaying the news. Maybe he saw the flicker of pain in my eyes, so I tried to hide it well across the dinner table. I could’ve spent the whole evening speaking of you, just the sound of your name brings pause to my heart…mmm something lingers like a stench. I hate it. I could never hate you but man it makes moving forward easier and worthwhile but hate should never be burrowed in the heart. 

I knew you would be brought up. I just didn’t think you’d stick to the membrane so well. Healing or any form of letting go is always tested at the onsite or hearing about the person. I was measured today, it seems some more work needs to occur. I don’t like hearing you played the field like I did. I loathe hearing that maybe you found something promising while my experience was poo trash. The ugly truth is I hope your road is hideous like mine ending in the same gutter I want to be needed by you again, it was a fake promise but any ring is more valuable than coal. Drunk and high somber in my emotions I had put you in the back with everyone else, moving on from all at once. I’m not healing from just one guy but from five young men that impacted my life like world war twelve. 

I don’t want to talk about you long because there’s nothing to really say except for the emotions I’ve already spewed and I’m tired of you in me. Invited to come back into the group I had to laughed it off and decline because the thought of you is so paralyzing I’d rather never see you again than to be tortured by the silence of your quiet eyes. Past toxic it’s death in the bones. Certain music brings up times when I could feel your presence like skin on my face, still till this day enough time has not gone by. I’m holding onto you and they, every substance in my grasp keeps you alive like the walking dead. I’m keeping trapped the demons of my past, the fellas of my deepest sentiment is it possible to be in love with all and every at one time? If I could taste you all at the same time dripping from my tongue it’s sinister to even think of you this way. 

I’ll be better tomorrow wanting to be a menace when on liquid affection. I’d love to speak to you or anyone but something in me stops because it’s never beautiful when the colors are fake and faded. So I’ll go to bed with you on my brain and Lord willing I’ll wake in the morning like nothing happened. Hoping my body and mind forget that you held my brain for too long. Have you ever needed to rescue yourself from yourself? Snatching myself from everything I desire it hurts to think somethings in me are evil, not birthed from God’s hand. Terrifying to say some of my actions have a different father and His name isn’t Yahweh. Blatantly obvious my grasp is fixed tight on the old naje, fingers not wanting to budge they’ve been pried loose by the Hands of the Anointed One…Jesus. 

Bringing out things that had gone to sleep in my midst, I need another dream to leave you outside of myself not wanting to lug you around. I just need some rest, is that too much to ask?