#brokenchi

[brokenchi]

And then she faded away. Without fanfare. Without fight. Quietly and quickly, As if she never was.

BrokenChi (Flash Story/True Story)

[brokenchi]

A poem

This is something new I wrote recently. As requested I put it in a voice note.  For those who actually listen to these here you go lol

[masochisticmusings]

You don’t have to change your status for me. You’re as free as the winged creatures that float on the breeze. Gliding from city to city In and out of trees With ease Nesting where they please. Unencumbered No entanglements Tangling ties to lovers Breaking free with lies to others. Wrists scarred from metal clasped around and tightly gripped. The remnants of wiggling out with a Houdini like slip. It’s a trip I know the script Well enough to recite it word for word. Outline the scenes I’m far from green I knew who you were before you knew my name. Cellophane game You kiss lips Guide hips Exclaim profanities and dip. Slip Back into the shadows Leaving shadows on concrete as you walk toward the light that signals the exit To the right So you can swim more oceans And wade in waters as shallow as your emotions. Thoughts as deep as kiddie pools. Collecting fools like baseball cards. By the packs Pack up and leave When dusk turns to dawn. Always changing the station to play a new song Before the first is finished. The allure has diminished And the appointed time for the session has come to an end. No need to pretend That this was more than a wistful tryst. A moment of bliss Momentary kiss-es Linger on lips Stranger than people I’ve never met. The same lips whispering lies of tomorrows that will never survive today. In an effort to escape unscathed. Untouched. Unchanged. So you can go out into the world and do it all again.

“The Cycle” -BrokenChi

[masochisticmusings]

Not that it matters, but what you said perfectly sums up my thoughts and feelings about you And I... I held my breath as I read it And felt a series of pangs in my heart as I consumed those words. I'm not really sure why I'm writing you this aside from this feeling that I had to. Maybe just because being open is a habit and vulnerability is my drug. I've OD'd so much with you that I'm surprised when I wake up. And though my tolerance is high now, To the point where I barely feel a thing, Occasionally, I'll see something that will cause palpitations and pangs in my heart. Aches in my stomach And tremors in my hands. Kinda like now. And I'll write vain repetitions of confessions and omissions to assuage the voices of suppressed feelings and thoughts... that go unseen, Unnoticed, Skipped over, And not "thought about". Because they're insignificant to the subject...the silent respondent. This is long and seemingly tangential when I meant it to only be a sentence... So I'll stop. Not that it matters.... But I miss you a lot.

"Much Ado About Nothing" -BrokenChi

[masochisticmusings]

The experiences of the innocent are often categorized by ignorance. While the experienced experience, Only moments of innocence. For with knowledge, Comes the weight and burden Of having experienced moments That Make you long for the bliss that accompanies the innocence of ignorance.

“Experience and Innocence” -BrokenChi

[masochisticmusings]

-You make me feel accepted and beautiful just as I am. -You see the real me, the flawed, vulnerable, messy, unattractive me…and you like her. - You don’t want the therapist. -You see things in me that other people rarely see. -You’re not afraid of me. -When we’re around each other, I feel like I’m breathing fresh air. I breathe you in deeply. -The time we spent in silence was more valuable than conversations with other people. -We’re inexplicably drawn to one another. -I have a deep desire to be underneath your skin. -You touched me and set my skin on fire. -You make me blush. -You ask me questions like “What would make you happy tomorrow?” -You’ve confided in me. -You noticed me and drew others attention to me. -You’re honest with me. -You haven’t stopped noticing me. -I like the way you look at me. -You make me laugh. -You remember me from when I wasn’t memorable. -You listen, take note, and respond accordingly. -You respect my time, thoughts, and feelings. -You feel lucky when I think about you. -You follow through. -You value my compliments and assessments. -You acknowledge that you’re flawed. -You desire me…more than sexually. -We can speak without words. -You’re here with me…now…when you probably shouldn’t be.

“How You Defied The Odds” -BrokenChi

[brokenchi]

"Like We're In Love"

Just something I wrote recently...

[masochisticmusings]

Dear Mr. You Should Straighten Your Hair, I understand that your comment wasn't meant to be derogatory and is just reflective of your idea of beauty. You're curious to see if when heat meets my hair how long it will cascade down and how silky it would be. The thought of straight hair whipping past my eye or being neatly tucked behind my ear makes you smile... Makes you wonder why I don't frequently rock this style. No shade to the women who do, #AllHairIsBeautiful and that includes my kinks too. Besides, in its unaltered state, my wild, messy, kinky, nappy, curly is magic. Defies gravity by sticking up straight. It's fluffier than clouds and softer than down pillows or pussy willows. Smelling like Springtime hibiscus, lilac, plumeria, jasmine. Fruity like mangos, limes, and tangerines. Delicious coconut, vanilla, and cocoa scents. Tingling your senses and making your lips wet. Whether blowing like leaves in the breeze or standing firm like trunks on trees my natural hair is astounding, remarkable, possessing beauty that convention can't contain. Naturally beautiful, be it twisted, loc'd, blown out, Bantu'd, twa, 4c or 3a. And yes even straightened, if I so choose. But my hair, like my body, exists for me. My self-expression. My consumption. Subject to my whims and adjustments, and alterations. Independent of your gaze. Appreciative of your acceptance and praise... but not dependent on it. Strong, independent, unapologetically me... just as carefree Black girl as I please. Love, Aisha

BrokenChi