A Love to Match My Body

I am not meant to shrink into an ideal.
Of desirable images of what a man wants.
That which he is fed by mainstream media.
Popular notions he believes he needs.

I am built to be robust.
Wide to match the horizon.
Large to cause fear.
Stared at with awe.

Yes, I do taste as good as I look.
Don’t let the cool taste fool ya!

All my wet parts with complicated desires.
No. I ain’t gonna shrink to fit into an ideal.
I am not constructed for white girlz magazines.
I was built to be appreciated live-and-in-person.

All of me!

My love cannot fit into a tiny body.
It is meant to be amongst the starz.
Touched gently,
Gazed at longingly,
Counted amongst breathless moments.

A man’s desire needs to fit me.
Not the small space limited by his imagination.

I was built for a long journey,
Deep – Meaningful
A life of many lessons.

I’ll never go gently in the night.

I am meant
To be discovered by
A love
that matches God.

Truth telling.

     

Truth telling.  That is what I’ve discovered about writing.  For me it is about - Truth telling.  Truth telling about my journey.  Our journey.  My life.  Our collective plight of survival.  Truth ain’t easy.  Truth needs to be told.  Truth breaks the shackles that bind me.  Truth lightens the load I’ve carried a long while.  Truth is meant to uncover.  Truth is meant to tell on myself.  Truth is meant to inspire.  Truth is free.  Truth. 

Writing truth about my moments - The burden of having my childhood body assaulted by men, again and again.  The shame I bore when another man physically abused me.  When I believed him that I was worth nothing, ugly, and I needed to be grateful for his kindness.  The silence I endured after rape.  The blame I hold onto because of all these experiences.  I came to understand the ugly reality that ‘‘hurt’ people, ‘hurt people’”.  Also, the sweet release of forgiveness and letting go.  The truth about me hobbling my life back together after these experiences with a sense of loss and letting go of childhood dreams.  The burden of standing tall, proud, and with dignity while hiding me.  And, the moment I fell in love with my son as a newborn baby.  My moment of realization - I had to get us away.  I couldn’t have him witness me being beaten and my spirit taken.  The day I fell to my knees, I couldn’t bear the weight any longer, and I realized the grace of God.  I was harrowed when I felt the love of God.  Now, I appreciate the humbleness I feel in creation.  How I am in complete awe of it.  All these moments of my life are meant for me to discover me.  I had to reclaim my body.  I had to understand my journey.  I had to actively participate in my life.  Also, I had to come to realize the amazing people who have held me together along the way – Some quietly. Some gently.  Some softly reminding me of my worth.  Some forcefully.  Some lovingly.  Some by sheer will holding onto me cause I was disappearing.  It is with this truth that I tell.  The truth about living my life.  I still believe in the magic of love.  I still have enough hope to fill oceans.  I have lots of dreams that I still gotta do.  It’s been an incredible journey so far, and I’m here, so come on let’s get to livin’…          

I'm back....

Writing is very personal.  Becoming a writer is not something I set out to do.  It’s been a love affair that started out long ago, but I’ve kept it for myself.  I’ve taken this time off to spend time with friends on Facebook to write with them.  I had to figure out who am I writing for and why?  What do I have to say that is important? Why me?  I spent the time developing my voice.  My literary voice.