The Joy Scribbles

I've been trying to scrub out the love letter you wrote in my heart.  New wounds open above the old, scratches and scabs turn into scars that never heel.  So I tried to bath them in liquor and hide them in sin, but I still remember that some time, 'long ago a boy told me he likes the way I sometimes cry at silly things like not being able to find my favorite ice cream.  I've tried planting things you do to annoy me over it.  like chewing your nails, snoring when you're drunk; smelling like red wine and Marlboro cigarettes and a hint of weed; like telling me you can't remember why you ever fell in love with me; like "come on baby you're not shining, shine for me". But nothing grew, Nothing but an annoyance that I sent you a text last night to which you replied "K". despite the fact that I said I love you.

My daughter wants to know why they're no girls like her in her favourite Tv shows. So I told her she is special. The world doesn’t know yet that the prettiest woman has Kinky curls and cocoa brown skin. My daughter doesn’t get why magazines are filled with Bullets meant to kill little brown girls. Like jeans with no space for her curves. With pictures of a tiny bustier That her 32D breasts don’t fit without being vulgar. She wants to know why I she cannot wear shorts Without encouraging men to bust her lips and knock down her doors. My daughter wants to know who will save her. Who will love her melanin and kink. For some reason the answer she is looking for is not me. 

Thunder storms. Don't you wanna hold me tonight? I've got a fever. and I need some love tonight. Passionate and violent like thunder storms in the desert not the splatters they call rain in London. Declare your love as loud as the thunder.  Bright for everyone to see like lightning in clear skies How else can I love you? In whispers? Hidden behind doors? I want love. the loud and bright kind. like lightning and thunder. I want the violently passionate kind. so when I wake and see the rubbles I know it wasn't just a dream. 

I’m about 1.5 meters of skin if we forget that bodies are made in loops and bends. I’m about ten shades lighter than black, One shade darker than yellow bone, Apparently still not quite yet red bone. I’m still light enough to sunburn easily, But too dark to tan. Yet not too dark to get darker. My bruises start out green ending in purplish-black patches that hurt almost as long as they last. While Hot showers and back rubs leave me red; Boys who suck my neck complain they cant own me. My legs are a patchwork of dry skin Cracks that sometimes remind me of pans drying after rain. If you pay attention you might notice the tiniest bits of hair. Elsewhere it grows thick, untamed, An expression of myself I’ve got scars Little stories but none in ink just yet. Just folding, healing skin. Little treasures of beauty spots hide across my body Like constellations against a the sky. Instead of silver they’re black Against my 10 shades l...