Category: Uncategorized

The Black Body.

It occurred to me this morning when I woke up, that in fact, I am Black.

Maybe being Black means to be violent. This violence is flowing through me in the eyes of peace. I overwhelm myself with the notions of being better…gentle…loved.

With just some Love, who Could I be. Through what eyes would i see?

What is Love. Is Love, the third large bag of chips in two days? Is Love the worst critic? Is Love a gentle slap to the face, reminding me, that I remain different and poised. Does Love remind me that I feel less and less like a girl, an more like a spirit? Does that mean, Loved?

By whose standards do I measure Love? In what science book can you find the theories on why Love IS : Fear, gratification, a risk.

Maybe, my mind can’t handle being Black…what a job to have. To remember that I canNOT yell too loud, or talk too fast, or wear anything too short. Just too Black for my own safety.

Then I realize…what is safety? What does that mean?

This brown body feels foreign, and easily morphed into redemption and anger. This body feels like a jello version of my thoughts. This body is not comforting, it is raw and un-found. This body is walking in a realm of unbalanced energy and I am the keeper.

I perpetuate my narrative of Blackness.

THE OVER-THINKER.

You ask me a question about myself,

My immediate answer is in relation to the greater world around me…never really about me, or answering your question.

I get lost in thought, and I am hoping with each exchange of questions and answers, that you are getting lost with me.

You gaze at me as I speak. My mind calculates your gaze as disinterest, and I can imagine anxiety putting on it’s best slacks to prepare to join us for dinner.

I change the subject. Maybe the alteration in the energetic fields of the universe will be a lighter topic for us to ponder against, maybe not. So, I let you speak. Desire for acceptance and relentless normality overcasts my need for releasing unfinished thoughts. You lead the way and take me into your realm of the mind. I am intrigued.

I can relax a little. My shoulders begin to decline the revolt of tension inside my body. I sip my Egyptian Chamomile.

“Be calm”, I internally whisper.

Then you ask me about my thoughts on sexuality. My Soul runs away from fear and opens the door to it’s light, just a little. I begin to talk, and let you in.

The worlds of reality are vague to me as I elude back to the greater world around me.

I don’t want you to know that I masturbated before this date. I thought about the possibility of you wanting to kiss me. The thought of me holding you swarmed by need to get to know you better. In my mind, I needed you to want me. My body disagreed as the time for our date arrived and I realized I had just been over-thinking.