What the H?

"here is what i have: poems, big thighs, little tits & so much love"

[llleighsmith]

someday someone is gonna be so soft and gentle with your heart, you’re gonna be so glad you kept it open, you’re gonna wonder why you ever thought about quieting it down

[thehazelnuttt]

when life descends into the pit / i must become my own candle / willingly burning myself to light up the darkness around me

alice walker

[thehazelnuttt]

does my sassiness offend you? or are you mad i survived?

[thehazelnuttt]

to be loved so well without merit or compensation just me, my mess & i shook.

H.

[thehazelnuttt]

cupid hit me, cupid hit me with precision.

[tristamateer]

Here we are again at the base of this poem about a man  ashamed of the hands he touches other people with. Too stubborn to admit love when it’s stuck in his throat like hard candy, like juice gone down wrong. He can’t stop coughing it up. Here we are again, me and this poem, trying to persuade you that it’s romantic, not to be chased but to be held off, to make friends with the waiting room but not the people in it because the people keep changing but me and this room we just keep on waiting. Funny how things can tell you exactly what they are and you’ll still find a way to be surprised and disappointed later. It’s not the room’s fault that nobody likes waiting. It’s not the man’s fault I keep crawling down his throat and making myself a choking hazard.

SAME OLD, SAME OLD by Trista Mateer (via tristamateer)

[frankenfemme-deactivated2015050]

*freak dances to misogynistic rap music but with God and womanism in my heart*

[beetlebongos]

unpopular opinion: everything matters it’s real and it is that deep

[thehazelnuttt]

AN INTERVIEW - https://www.gq.com/story/andre-3000-outkast-gq-style-interview

[thehazelnuttt]

some people when they hear your story. contract. others upon hearing your story, expand. and this is how you know.

nayyirah waheed

[tristamateer]

so the boy is not a wolf– but he bites like one. when you tell everyone he has teeth, he just smiles and smiles.

ON NOT SAYING WHAT YOU REALLY MEAN IN THE FACE OF TRAUMA, Trista Mateer  (via tristamateer)

[pureblyss]

Occasionally weep deeply over the life you hoped would be. Grieve the losses. Then wash your face and trust God

John Piper 

[shift-deactivated20171204]

[cgcpoems]

there isn’t much that scares me more than my own heart, a monster of tenderness if there ever was such a thing. it sounds strange, but I have an irrational fear that one day I’ll wake up to find it (it being my heart) perched at the foot of my bed in a cloud of desperation, begging to be torn apart and consumed in the name of compassion. and that’s incredibly terrifying for a few different reasons, but mainly because I’d do it. I’ve never needed an excuse to sacrifice myself for love; I’m a martyr for everything soft. I confess to you: I’d bleed for anything if it held me the right way. I confess: I have. I have. I have.

phantom pain, by Caitlin Conlon 

[thehazelnuttt]

I BEEN GOIN THRU IT ALL - Erykah-She lLL- Badu

[thehazelnuttt]

okay, okay. it’s august & last week i was beginning to get comfortable with the warmth after midwinter passes but has johannesburg's weather ever been stable? there is currently a cold front & my soul is currently decorated with the steady and secure flames of a fire place in the mansions in american movies. the day before i got my second degree i got such bad news. i wonder why we think because we want something we can have it? let’s say you’re in a race, right? with two thousand three hundred and something people, and then you’re in the top thirty, and then you’re in the top 4, the top fucking four out of two thousand three hundred and something people, and then you don’t win. the gag is when you glimpsed at the trophy it had your name on it. it makes no sense because i have never met anyone with my name, i only know of fictional characters in young adult literature & local television that share my name, so whose name was on the trophy because it looked like mine? the day after graduation, i cried so much, i even fell sick to the point that i was on bed rest for a week. it’s crazy how our emotions can cripple us. bubba was in town for me & i basically missed the exception to this usual biannual occasion because of my emotions. but emotions are temporary motherfuckers so i recovered. soonafter, Xxxxxxxx told me he loves me. i knew that i loved him sometime in March but i couldn’t tell him that. we live in two different cities. he has a girlfriend. & i have more than one bed. he calls, plays the piano & freestyles in Xhosa. then tells me in English that he said he loves me. “i love you, Hazel” he called again last week and he speaks about us like we exist in the future. someone has a life with me in the future but i don’t even know what i'm doing tomorrow. i have plans. i have ideas of how i am going to execute them but i don’t know. how can he be so sure? like i’m a leading role in all the scenes. who cast me? did i even go to the audition? Xxxxxxxx & i met again last winter, you remember right? i blew him off in the winter of 2012. well, it’s the winter of 2016 and i am about to meet Xxxxxxxx’s friends. he casually holds my hand as if holding hands is something we do. i gasp and my lungs hold onto the air as if it is my last breath. my body has sorta been a battlefield my entire life. after the rape, my hands just didn’t do things hands usually do, like hold another hands. so muscle memory caused me to retract from his warm gesture. our journey from the gate to the tiny living room packed with strangers who were waiting to become friends has now been brought to a halt. i am trying to exhale but i know an explanation has to follow, he is allowed to hold my hand, i actually shouldn’t have ever let go of his hand five years ago, but my body, my mind, this was the first time since. so i am considering holding onto that last breathe until my soul escapes my body but as he turns behind i am met with eyes that have a reassurance that screams “it’s alright”. there is an inexplicable comfort that i get when we are together, like when you have the key to a door or a car. i reached out and held his hand again that day. i also told him that i love him. i also sent it via text. and now i daydream of saying it to him while looking into his eyes and holding his hands. is love an emotion or a drug? i read a definition that says a ‘drug’ is something administered in order to induce stupor or insensibility. towards the end of july, i am beginning to think that the love i have for M is a drug. i am trying to understand how we have been brought to where we currently are by love. it makes no sense. i have been trying so hard to make sense of things. emotions are tumultuous and i think that it why i refrain from reducing love to an emotion. the power love has over the body, the soul, the mind is something else. i am still gathering my thoughts on that because i am slightly more preoccupied on wrapping my mind around the fact that the left side of my face is temporarily paralysed. the devil is working overtime & i am so tired but ayyyy it’s also 2am so maybe that’s why. but tonight my soul was reignited with a passion for life that is so inexplicable that it could only divine.

the text you send your best friend on the 20th of august because you haven't know how you are since the beginning of july

[tristamateer]

TEN DIFFERENT CONVERSATIONS ABOUT THE SAME THING, or A SPECIFIC LIST OF THINGS TO FORGET 1. your voice on the phone saying, “you’ve had my heart for years.” 2. my voice on the phone saying, “tell me you’re never going to get on the plane. if you want me to walk away, tell me you’re never going to get on the plane.” 3. your voice on the phone saying, “you deserve great things. I believe in you so much. I think you’re going to have a really good year.” 4. my voice on the phone saying, “you’re a fucking coward.” 5. your voice on the phone saying, “I miss you so much it’s making me nauseous.” 6. my voice on the phone saying, “I am so tired of kissing the wrong person goodnight. and look, I’m not saying you’re the right person. I’m just saying I want to find out.” 7. your voice on the phone saying, “I can’t. it’s just too hard.” 8. my voice on the phone saying, “it’s just miles. it’s just plane tickets.” 9. your voice on the phone saying, “I adore you, I fucking adore you.” 10. my voice on the phone saying, “just– take care of yourself, okay?

Trista Mateer