for a long time i thought i wouldn’t make it out of you alive and alive was just a thing that had become by way of accidental being a drink too long thighs too thick the way i’d cry in public reading something that moves and moves and then for months i’d collapse into you i spent months in your bed making love to the fear of past of the nostalgia that would glide tongue and mouth wet sticky hard gone and i would sink over in your presence lost losing. this morning i saw for the first time i am the woman i imagined myself to be as a little girl, no longer chasing the fire of somebody else’s burning body, no longer chasing. we made eggs, my best friend friend tells me about nigerian breakfasts, i sigh because i grow craving. i laugh a little into myself when i think of you looking at me the way you used to before love became a commitment, fixed, a thing we had to do when. you end a call on ‘bye, beautiful’, send me something i don’t have time to watch. it’s sunday, i’m tired because there is no room for rest and although i am at the cusp of being burnt out i know i am no longer the victim of being burned down. i think of myself, feet on the ground, belly full, a couch filled with people i love and know what a thing it is to keep rebuilding ourselves over and over like a miracle of the history that keeps us.
- i haven’t threaded my eyebrows in over a month and i’m just glad i have a fringe to make ‘em hide
- i hate when i can smell men i’ve kissed but not wanted everywhere
- i’ve been only listening to kelela
- i have a habit of only listening to some songs all of the time
- i wanted to cry washing up the dishes today but the tears seem all knotted up into this two week migraine of mine
- i want hands
- a little bit of tender
- i’m looking on ebay for things i cannot afford
- temporary makes room for no shelter
- i feel full from the things i love, being able to do them
- i have forgotten
- i’ve forgotten so many things
- sometimes i cannot remember the journey or the distance from one place to the next
- how i got there
- like i’ve just been in motion but trapped elsewhere
- i want to make love, to feel something
- but not love
- and i want somebody that’s my person, not a lover, but a friend that’s my friend that i get to have all to myself
- that just calls me up like ‘hey’ and comes over and brings food and then sits there with me when it’s real quiet
- cause i’m always chaos inside, a storm wilting, a hesitant breath
- an almost gone
- i need someone there to remind me
- i can be soft
- in a way that is not the backdrop
- i’ve always been.
you know it, you know the way an old lover’s name can sound a stranger to your throat, you know? i walk down the platform of an almost empty station and hear my foot steps against the flooring echo. i wonder if anybody really knows what’s inside a breath. growing up i felt textured to things, the mundane, sounds, smells, the feel of my teeth at particular moments. during the summer i’d wait for the sound of the studs at the bottom of my brother’s cricket boots against concrete and try to make out the way the foot curves. i grew up slumped against the glass of a squash court wondering how it got to smell so cold and stale. my favourite beloved, his lips would fall around particular words and i would resign myself to the corners of his mouth. i can still see the ‘o’ stuck mid-air. these days i pay attention to the space between the sky and concrete, every morning the numbers of people packed out in spaces too small for belonging. sometimes someone will smile full teeth at you and you will wonder what got into them, what kind of luck or mercy. the doctor tells my mum i just need a bloke. i laugh awkwardly when i try to explain my body giving way is not just a phase. i haven’t touched anything that’s felt real in almost a year. what was real about that was the same as shoes to ground, i kept listening out for something that wasn’t there. a boy who lied to me about being single grows his dysfunction on me. i’m tired of being a soundboard for sadness, my own has consumed me into a daunting phantom. the whole country is flooding, i am reminded of what it is to be an immigrant here forever. maya’s paranoia measures with her uncertainty. she pulls a knife out. the man who loves her loves her so large but what good is love like that when you’ve spent your entire life being less than human to even your kin. my girls are getting big and i never not want them to be close. mama says lena took to a book and spent the afternoon reading and i want them to love the things i loved about words before the english or the knowing came. i grow awkward and uncomfortable in the doctor’s office, rich white men have a way of taking so much space and crushing what is yours. i want to shout ‘my body is not a phase’ but we’ve come from a history where our disposability is just temporary time, a phase. my legs are hairy and i feel ashamed when my brown body gets too visible. i watched the big orchids in the thai restaurant and wonder what they give them that makes them so big, my mama feeds me. i miss her but don’t know how to say it yet. i keep hearing all the men i’ve loved leave, it’s the glass in the squash court, the ‘o’ stuck mid-loss, my brother giving up the only thing he’s ever known, the skin i never made it out of. there is no name for the heroes and heroines we need, that we call for but never come.
so my body has been in so much pain all week and it’s making me a grumpy old man but god bless my mama for sneaking me into see a rhemautologist next week cause lord knows i can’t do this anymore nor the over-exhausted with brain fog 24/7 and ain’t ever had a problem working more than a 9 - 5 and i’m hella used to juggling 50000 things but last year my body decided to stop working on me the way it used to and well it’s not sustainable and i’ve had a migraine since like friday it seems and today i came home and just lay in the dark and the whole room started to smell funky cause i oversensitive to smell when those migraines come knocking and then ate so much junk food today that my body is hating on me and cause i couldn’t run i’ve gone into body shaming and i’m wondering when everything became so tired like i’m so tired i don’t even have the energy to physically freak out over the things i’m freaking out about in fact it’s like screaming insides and i’ve been feeling so lonely the kind of lonely that continuously swallows me and the bff and her sis are away for two weeks so the apartment is so quiet and i know i love me some solitude but it’s so quiet i even called up my ex just to fill something up some vacuum and when will it go when will it surrender when will it feel less black hole and empty and more like room so i saw some high waisted bell bottom jeans on ebay i want so bad but i got two more inches to my waist than those 25 and it’s like sigh then i ate a donut this morning crispie cremes up in the office and got a sugar rush and it took me 3 hours to stream pretty little liars and damnfuckshit what is even going on with that am i allowed to freak out i mean i even dream about A coming after me too and sure i’m grateful i’m not complaining cause so far this year has been steadied tangible growth and i’m just doing that work but i’m tired and now it is bed time and hopefully i will dream about something other than black magic or somebody tryna kill me and wake up tomorrow alive.