Pillow Talk.Photo Courtesy of Henry Lee Battle. For more black art >>
Tears and tissues. I read. Can they read me? Searching for Stability. I'm emotionally unstable. Weak? No, Bored. Being alone is a nightmare. It’s a poisonous self-conscious emotional detriment. Why am I alone? What went wrong? Was it me? You? Us? Were we not meant to be? You not meant for me? Me not meant for you? A m I too picky? Maybe just a little. Are you too childish? Maybe just a lot. Unfortunate characteristic of a man. I meant boy?My thoughts are tangled. My heart is dismantled. I wonder. Where are all the good guys? Are they extinct? Maybe I’m not looking hard enough. Maybe I shouldn't be looking. Faith. Time. I lack patience. Is my physical appearance not my leading asset? Or was physical appearance merely his only motivating magnet? Why hasn't he called? I called once. Texted once. Just as the unwritten girls guide suggested. I’m being too hard on myself. I mean, I am marketable. Just have hope my girls said. Hope. Something about the word. Papa says you have to claim things in life. Hope, no, have certainty. ‘I want that’. ‘I’m going to get that’. But. . ‘I want that’, him, with uncertainty. Mix & Match. I'm indecisive. Will it still work? Will I….? How do I get him? Claim him? With certainty of course. If I close my eyes tight. Sealed. Shut. Maybe, just, maybe. He’ll be waiting for me when I open them. Until then, I live for sleep. To Dream. I’m happiest when I’m dreaming. That’s where my happiness lies. Maybe the pursuit will be no longer when life feels like a dream and my dreams resemble my life.