so it goes...

laughter. love. peace. poetry.

[preciouswingo]

She Hates Surprises

Call it a care package

For when she looks to find hearts pinned to words she did not write

I’m leaving a scribbled note in the middle of her book for her to find

On a page she did not expect

As I tug on a little red thread in hopes she will see

And pull her out of her head for a moment 

So that her pulse is the only thing she can hear

To remind her that she is loved in the shade amongst the spiders

Hoping that her flicker turns into a blazing shine again to reveal her butterflies

I know she hates surprises

But I love them

So call it a care package

[preciouswingo]

. Untitled Unfinished.

I'm only five foot one. One hundred and ten pounds soaking wet. But this trauma is so big it feels like there's only room for one of us. This trauma is too big. It won't let me love right. this trauma is a ghost only I can see. The sixth sense. It lingers. Lurks at me from behind her eyes. Oozes from beneath her tongue every time she tells me she loves me. Taunts me with day dreams of long term monogamous relationships but slither under the sheets between me and my partner. Planting insecurities like bed bugs. bed bugs only I can feel I am bitten every night. Turning pillow talking to pillow tossing. While she sleeps imagining our wedding I am stuck wide eyed and paranoid trying to convince myself again I can trust her with my heart.

[preciouswingo]

Back at it Again, With the Back at it Again

Time to bring poetry back to this account. Hence the previous two posts. I'll be posting old and new stuff. Excited. Stay tuned and send me some followers who like the way I put together my words. Peace. Love. Poetry.

[preciouswingo]

. Sandcastles.

You are the only thing i remember clearly from back then Sandcastles we never built washed away when you moved back over the hill I was caught up in his shine The way the sun reflected me in his eyes Bright blinded like beach days too busy riding his wave to miss you He washed over me like cool waters After decades in the desert I begged to see his scars For a reason to stay He showed me the ugliest parts last Late night conversations about the future Cut to Chasing one another down the street Yelling about the past I didn't realize he would be so heavy And too small to carry the both of us I came crawling back to you Heart washed up on your shore I was begging for your waves Anything to quench the parched rasp beating of my broken heart So we built sandcastles that washed away My heart was left washed up somewhere on the dry shore of our love

[preciouswingo]

. All Night Long.

We were born in a parallel universe As the best parts of ourselves I remember you Laughing as saturn rose behind you We’ve lived a thousand times and died alone each one But today This life We have found each other again Through time and people we exist So i call you crying Yearning for my other half at midnight And again at 2am And again at 4 They say true love is the greatest weapon To end the war caused by pain So you answer everytime We’ve started to remember us again I swim to you Every stroke wiping my tears You became my remedy All night long We will love again Each other Ourselves Hard Like we did before we killed each other A thousand lives ago Do you remember Trade your broken wings for mine So we can soar again I will nurse you back to health A kiss A touch I’m sorry I need to get back to you Need to get back to us So i can be my best self Do you remember when we ruled the world Sitting on top a hill Slightly south of paradise We built our castle of 40 bottles and broken swishers Found refuge in my bed In each other I loved you like i loved myself when no one else was around Do you remember Signing autographs We went to the moon and back Circled the world a million times And still made it home in time for game of thrones I remember How you’d make me laugh How when i lost myself i’d call you for the pieces And you’d bring them to my front door with glue and kid cudi I remember I remember I remember Do you

[preciouswingo]

the remembering so long the forgetting so short or is it the other way around i can’t remember anymore hello can you hear me i’m in california dreaming of michigan winters and damp pillows after dark i can’t seem to sleep too many black sheep jumping over my head wolf worries grazing in my head went from 10 hour knockouts to 2 hour naps and only if i’m faded cause i gotta stay high all the time to keep from calling you or texting you or picking a fight with you just because i miss you and the night’s so long i forgot how to say it keep it short just say it i’m sorry with all this difference between us this distance between us i’m afraid our future will sink into the abyss fold melt collapse into calamity catastrophe that the pull of our gravity  will lead us deeper into destruction hello  are you listening?

[preciouswingo]

For someone so loud I slip silently between the cracks my mouth be a roaring lion a muscle car motor that won’t stop running you can hear me from down the street  around the corner running back and forth between offices i hide my depression so well, it makes me wonder how I hide my depression.  when they ask me for a shoulder to lean on I wonder if they see me struggling with my own burdens due to lack of support. And just when i think I’ve given enough Just enough so that the support would be unconditional Just when I think I was the best me I could be for everyone except me I look around and see no one but me with the ones claiming my name as scars watching silent.

[preciouswingo]

I don’t know if I’m forgetting or remembering these days everything looks so familiar | imagined one hundred times over and over i dream the same dreams wish the same things and none of it ever comes true

my memories are looking more and more like wishful thinking feeling more and more like a groundhog day lived one thousand times over I have no more branches to reach with i am all withered out i am tired of this same ol’ oxygen these same ol’ lungs this same ol’ heart just beating then breaking then beating then breaking

then beating then breaking all over again and again and again we drink these same drinks smoke these same things we do this all in remembrance of her and you and me and us mourning while pouring at the bottom of the road we’ve reached the end of the bottle but we’re still lost like…

i don’t know if i’m forgetting or remembering these days

[benwarheit]

Things I like about this decal on a restaurant window: -the insane orange waiter -that he’s carrying his plates in the air like a strongman -the couple looks like this isn’t the first time he’s done this, but it’s easier to just let it happen at this point. -the sign says PASTA as if he’s screaming it like a frankenstein -but he’s holding a plate of an entire chicken and a plate of wine glasses -there’s three wine glasses -one’s for him.

[preciouswingo]

if you’re still watching

The heart said ignore the page. what with all this madness going on how could you think of love at a time like this anyway a poet is told to capture the times expose truth to a blind society written like a watermark only an artists tears will bring to surface and with michael and eric and freddie resting in peace and pieces there is so much to see beautiful brown bodies piling like trash on new york streets by the new york police there is so much to speak still my heart is confused the only tragedy my pen seems to be able to capture is us

i need to doodle you out need to put aside narcissistic concerns of us this world is burning we may not survive the flames, I know and my pen cries every time i get to close to the heat it will be this way for centuries I’m sure comfortably weeping a sound similar to that of my heart last time it was broken similar to that of freddies screams and erics gasps michaels silence These days my pen only wants to wring out muddied thoughts of you  as if we are the only thing I still feel comfortable crying out loud about.  These days my pain is both the fresh dawn of your skin and the starless midnight of theirs. These days every morning, I am mourning.  And every evening too. 

[preciouswingo]

Ten years ago my angel flew back home. Today, I find no comfort in ink that will one day fade or pages that will one day burn. Today, I feel I am in mourning every time I look in the mirror. #myangel

[preciouswingo]

My existence is at war with a Country who is constantly at war with my existence. This is what is is to be black in Amerikkka.

[thebayshansola-deactivated20150]

Seriously.

[preciouswingo]

Killing us in the street and then telling us not to riot is the modern day equivalent of beating us in the fields and then reminding us we better not get any blood on the crops when we get back to work.

[preciouswingo]

This. This is a prime example of the ways I often see white privilege overlooked.

This. This is a prime example of the ways I often see white privilege overlooked. Quietly. Because it's not always a loud ignorant bigot armed with racial slurs for days. It is bathing activism and allyship in humanist concepts about telling unlearned truths, while politely managing to leave part of the story out. It is talking about the issue without ever really talking about the issue. It is starting with just the pretty parts, taking the ugly parts, marinating them in academic jargon or political correctness until we can't see the blood anymore, shoving it down our throats, and then asking why we are still hungry when you obviously just fed us Annie Lennox Whitewashes Explanation of 'Strange Fruit'

[snark0lepsy-deactivated20160229]

The Whitest Kids U’ Know x

[sapphisae]

Psychologists have found that people’s belief in a just world helps explain how they react to innocent victims of negative life circumstances. People become cognitively frustrated when presented with stories of victims who suffer through little fault of their own. They can deal with this frustration in two ways: they can conclude that the world is an unjust place, or they can decide that the victim is somehow to blame. Most people reconcile their psychological distress by blaming the victim. Even when we know that suffering is undeserved, it is psychologically easier to blame the victim rather than give up the idea that the world is basically fair.

Melissa Harris-Perry [x] (via aerialiste)

Completely on.

(via transriley)