We screech at ants crawling along our walls,
Moving to dance on our arms and legs
Brushing across our faces as we sleep
We feel them even when we aren’t,
See them even though we’ve doused
The skin and painted concrete surrounding
Us with poison meant to chase the things
That were here before, and will remain after,
Away.
i’m in india. right now, i’m in india. i’ve been saying that i wanted to go for 3 years. and, look… here i am. india. i’m sitting at a table with an assortment of my fellow students digesting dinner. we had curry. we’ve had curry for every meal, which i expected, kinda.
i arrived in a cloud of panic and humidity on friday night, really saturday morning. i left mi casa about 4 am on Thursday. it’s strange, you know, to think that the next time I’m there, the baby will be too. I’m excited, but terrified to live with such a small human being. but it’s going to be awesome.
anyway, i arrived, but my bags didn’t. i’ll tell you that story later, or maybe i won’t. they were forgotten. so, saturday, i went shopping. bought some, uhm, “native” garb. i look like a fool. but it’s better than wearing the same clothes over and over. now i have 5 outfits. aye. i miss my closet. yes, i’m homesick already. not in a bad way… just, i kinda miss my clothes & face wash.
i’ve also gone to the beach. i should maybe take pictures, but don’t find myself in the mood. it’s hot. plus, i forgot to bring a purse, and don’t wanna schlep the camera about. perhaps soon. okay i’ll be back.
Single Black Female
SBF seeks:
a writer interested in changing history.
Bring: an eraser with the the ability to smudge away past aches,
white out (write out past mistakes)
and ink so dark it’d write over whatever was left, see?
SBF seeks:
someone blind to beauty
(what care would a blind man have for skin or color,
for soft lines and hungry curves?).
SBF seeks:
some soul so broken that their eyes see shapes in fragmented form
(giving truth to the idea that eyes lie; forcing them to
ignore a body’s curves and lines long
enough to begin to question jagged edges).
SBF seeks:
herself.
The herself lost in years of acceptance of lies,
obliterating her ability to even
look at herself. be herself. know herself.
Devastatingly innocent, she was holding a pen that only wrote hope,
believing she wrote was the way the world worked,
that is, hopefully.
The herself she lost in trying to rewrite herself,
in thinking she could find someone to take care of her
take her where she couldn’t take herself
(never knowing that
that the places she would be taken would be places
she didn’t belong-
she was where she belonged, she belonged where she was).
SBF seeks:
acceptance
(of the was, of the will be…
of herself).
I don’t use exclamation marks when I talk to you. I hope you don’t count that as inconsequential, useless information. It’s necessary to note; it’s the clearest indicator I can give you of how much I hate you. Notice I didn’t say loathe. No, loathe is entirely too strong. Maybe hate is too. Too much emotion. Too much passion. My feelings for you, they are non-existent. I’d say invisible, but I’m sure someone out there, somewhere, still secretly believes that their invisible friend exists, giving life to my thoughts of you. What thoughts of you? There aren’t any. I hate you. Or, not hate, loathe? No, dislike. Better, denounce. I denounce you. Acknowledge your existence once, and then never. You were, you never were. Easy, like that.
someday soon, post finals pre-new-freaking-semester, i’ll be taking this blog up again. i haven’t been writing because i had nothing to say. or, i was afraid of saying the wrong things. that’s before i remembered that i’m afraid in almost every part of my life… i refuse to be afraid on paper.
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