When we first started – I was enraptured.
Misguided. I brought you all my baggage.

Piled it and piled it up against your door.
I remember it… it was the upper floor.

The little girl deep inside of me literally held on tight to every word you spoke.
You were right to push back – straighten it out.

Each time you extinguished the flame I grew stronger. This is reality – and you were right
we do learn each other – for the rest of our lives.

Spent some good time getting to know myself. (sighs of joy)
For that I thank you… and this is the reason I love you and I want to recreate me and you.


So much shit has happened.
I grew a thicker layer of internal skin as the layers of outer fat melted.
Though I’m applauded for the progress, I know this loss was created from ill gotten pain.

Today – after so long – we’ve grown in an arching direction.
looking to come back to a point of togetherness.
A symphony of simplicity – and extra-ness.

I sigh – truly unsure of the reasons why – I feel an indifference.
Must be a safety device.

Over the months of being without you – yet having a front row seat to your new freedom
via the madness of technology… I grew this skin.

This spot in my soul grew numb…and life for me changed.
I lost a little bit of that feeling.

Told you this must be the real deal – because this thing I can not shake.
Even with the loss of some of the feeling – it’s evident – you seem to be the o=n=e.

Not sure I wanna take the risk – get involved with you and your fans and the bullshit.
So sexy and so human though…sometimes it’s worth the trouble
and I’ve tired of the randomness.

Lost in the translation…many months, many many untold lies.
Still this feeling surges – in spite of space, time, children or mayhem.
It’s the truth. You. Me. True as the day is long and this war is wrong.

And so today – as I rejoice in the things that will soon come – I feel a hollowness.
Because I know you.

And I know me.

The me that is no longer your comfortable shoe.

Not that loving puppy sitting happily
at your feet…waiting.

I had to survive and in the process, I lost some of it.
Not just for you… but for the world.
A numbness. I think I’ve mentioned it to you before.

Not cold – not hot – just still.
Does this mean that I’ve lost my innocence?

And so the story goes…
feeling this sting

addicted to the
contradictions and conflicts.

From the Ballad of a Real Black Girl

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