I choose...

The Big Emotions

I choose...

To be ignored, hated even,

rather than adored

And, no, I don't really

mean it... It is so

that I might

Suffer

it all

the more

Exquisite!

When shut up,

And Blocked,

put out from

the catacombs

where everyone

else seems

safely anchored

to the shore

I choose...

The Empty

so that I

myself

may carry

The Universal

Burden

of matching

the Socks

that endlessly

go missiling

I choose...

The welts upon

the chest and thighs

that signify

affection as

Metaphysical

I choose...

The Big Emotions

Because I must

be arrogant and proud

to know the shame

of the inadequate

in the sermons

recited during sleep

I choose...

The Big Emotions

Because the

moment

will come

that I will be called

to stand for Collection

And the One

True Testament

will put a razor

through me

and squeeze

the final drop..!

of my precipitation.

And I want to say

I gave my

everything

as I expire,

into that breadth

With no human

Feeling left.

03.02.2023

Simplicity or Complexity? challenge @akitoyu

his hair.

the first thing i noticed about him,

his hair.

it gleamed in the sunlight,

wavy locks cascading down to his shoulders.

he turned towards me,

his hair waving in the breeze.

his eyes.

they gazed into mine,

rendering me motionless.

my heart skipped a beat,

stumbling,

falling.

i fell in love with everything about him.

his walk,

the confident nonchalant meander,

his laugh,

lighting up his face,

and warming my heart.

life without him is colourless,

a dreary white and grey.

I found my true love young

She swept me off my feet

She was smart, quick, and proud

And like juice, cute and sweet

But before I drank her whole

The juice spilled on the floor

One moment she was a glass-half-full

The next she was no more

Five long years passed right by

Lonely in love with a ghost

Five long years thirsty for juice

Holding what I love the most

Then one day I reopened my eyes

And wanted to start life anew

If I had to lose my The One

I deserved to find my The Two

On my way I found something

As scarce as hen's teeth

Someone dark, gloomy, and bitter

With faint sweetness underneath

He managed to make me question

My own instilled taste

Instead of pure juice sweetness

It’s the coffee trail I chased

I followed him through thick and thin

Courting for a while

I made him roll his eyes and sneer

And then I made him smile

Now he’s the one who’s in my bed

Even though he’s not my first

My heart and soul belong to him

He finally quenched my thirst

Her picture is still on my wall

To which I forever vow

I’ll remember what I had lost

And protect what I have now

The love of my life,

Her title, my wife.

Love me now and forever.

Two lives together.

One day, one bill.

Could be payed at will.

She was the cashier.

I played it by ear.

I went back every month.

She smiled at me once.

That's all it took.

I was hooked.

She walked with me in the park.

I saw her again after dark.

She and I shared a kiss.

Not a phone call I would miss.

I felt wrong for the love of my life.

I fell in love with this woman, but she wasn't my wife.

you tell your husband it’s a conference in Utah, good old non-threatening Utah. I tell my wife there’s a 77 Lincoln continental town coupe I’m interested in buying and I have to see it for myself.

Now, you and i are walking in the desert. we're trying to find a good place for a picnic. there's a blanket and a bottle of red wine in my backpack. we find a valley where rock cliffs are on one side, burgeoning sunset on the other. it's hot, pleasant breeze. i spread the blanket on a flattish stretch of sandstone near some juniper. we sit, take in the sights, smile at each other, laugh at the fact we haven't spoken to each other in a bit. the sights have left us speechless.

i open the wine, spill a little over my hand. we both laugh. i lick a little off, then offer it to you. you take my hand and wrap your lips around the edge of my palm, breathe hot breath onto my skin. i lean in and our foreheads touch, smiling. "the wine?" you ask. "oh yes!" i get back to the task, pour in the less-than-elegant plastic cups. we clink them (or clunk them) and i swallow my mouthful, you don't, you puff your cheeks out and have a strange look on your face. you beckon and lean in. immediately you kiss me, part your lips and let the wine flow into my mouth. i kiss you back harder, open my mouth wide and accept your wine and your tongue as we fall backward onto the blanket.

the weather is perfect. we kiss and my hands slide beneath your shirt. you arch your back as my hand glides over your stomach and up to your chest. with my other hand i undo your bra from the back. with a bodywave shrug, it slides free and i touch your tender warm breasts, your nipples firming up. you let out a moan and kiss me harder. i break the kiss and lick your neck, plant several kisses on the way to your ear. at the same time, your hands have moved down to my belt and zipper. you rub the growing mass under the cloth, teasing me before you unbutton, unzip, and slide your hand down to discover my firm, smooth cock. a bead of wetness on the tip has gotten on your thumb and your palm, which you use to pump me into a frenzy.

i glide my hands down and undo your shorts. you stretch up on your toes while i push down your cloth and panties. as it bunches at your ankles, you gingerly step out of them, rotate your body around and lower your nethers down onto my mouth. i lick and taste you, grabbing your thighs, dragging my tongue up and back, breathing hot breath and glistening your warm, tender divide. you let out a gasp and lower yourself your mouth onto me, humming out the remainder of your breath, which causes me to hum my pleasure into you. i taste you, i lick you, i want you.

you rise up from me and we kiss again, tongues swirling in a heated and heavy delirium. you claw at my shorts to get enough access as you lower yourself onto me. your vulva is pulsing and wet, my cock flows into you as if there's nothing we need do but join and connect. we lay like that for a moment, then we begin to move in rhythm, up and down, our bodies becoming a the most beautiful factory machinery of flesh. our pulses quicken, our breath comes in desperate moans as we increase our speed. i look into your eyes and you into mine. we see an expression like pain, but it's ecstasy, a gathering of sensation so wonderful it doesn't have words yet. your eyes widen, then clamp shut as you climax, once, then another smaller one like an encore, as you still bounce up and down, but in slower increments. i feel the walls of your vagina flex and release as you pant and moan. a shiver goes through you as you collapse onto me and we embrace. a cool, clammy but pleasant feeling as our sweaty bodies press together in post-coital bliss.

we lay like that for what seems an hour. when we open our eyes, it's much darker and there's a tremendous sunset splashed across the vista. we barely touched the wine. we gather up and walk back to the car, smiling and in silent knowledge, the place, that valley, a witness to our tryst, and no one else, least of all our partners.

"I don't want to go to another gala dinner," I groan begrudgingly as the gold earrings slip into their holes.

My husband turns around with a deep sigh to look at me. He knows I hate this part of his job. I don't like being the arm candy, meant to be seen and not heard. I find it to be demoralizing, and he knows this. I have two bachelor's degrees and a master's... who cares if he's a Governor?

His hands toy with his neck tie, securing it properly as he stalks over where I am sat. I watch with curiosity as his hands smooth over my bare shoulders. We're both looking at one another through the mirror I'm sat before, eyes boring into eyes, mouths shut.

"I know that. That is why I didn't ask you to come; I told you to come," he says simply, his tone is laced with the slap he wishes he could act on.

I roll my eyes at the response and my curiosity is satisfied. Should have known he was going to be an asshole.

He walks back into the walk in closet we share, presumably slipping his shoes on and leaving me to zip my gown on my own.

"James will be there!" He yells from afar. Now his tone is laced with malice.

My body freezes under my own judging stare through the mirror, but I manage to clear my throat to speak. "Oh?"

Is that the best you have? He clearly knows, so there is no since in playing dumb.

"Oh?" He mocks me, opening the closet door to show him sitting on the ottoman, tying his shoes as I had thought he was. "Don't play stupid withe me, darling. We both know how much you just adore my best friend."

Again, I'm frozen. What am I to say? What am I to do? He's playing a game with me-- no, he's playing my game with him. The game that I had started with him when I found him sleeping with his campaign assistant-- a truly original move for a Governor if you ask me.

I zip my dress as he chortles at our malfeasance, slinking his arms through his black suit jacket while bringing me a pair of heels. "What's that thing you liked to tell me when we were campaigning? Fight fire with fire? Consider this a checkmate, babydoll. He'll like the way these look wrapped around his body," he taunts calmly, mouth merely centimeters from my ear as he sets the red shoes on the ground beside my feet.

I blink blankly for a moment before bending down silently-- there is nothing more for me to say-- and slipping the shoes on.

As I stand to my new height, he looks at me with a big smile, arm bent as he offered it to me. "Ready to go, Mrs. Williams?"

-- -- -- --

Now, I'm standing beside him, arm slinked around his, fake smile plastered on my face, vocal cords bored from not being used. Laughter erupts around us as Gov. Williams talks about his State's newest bills; though, I'm not sure how the topic is humorous, truth be told, I'm not even paying attention.

My conscious focuses on the voices around me. My ears perk up and search for the calming and familiar voice of my husband's best friend. Hope was nearly lost as the time ticks by, the end of the gala nearing, when I hear the laugh that melts every ounce of stress out of my body. My heart swells as I see him walking closer, his eyes focus on mine as our smiles grow.

He lands beside me, arms wrapping around my shoulders in a friendly hug while announcing his arrival to everyone around us.

"There he is! What took you so long? We were starting to get worried about you, weren't we, darling?" My husband offers, his hand on my lower back as the audience slides away to strike up a new conversation, leaving me alone with my husband and James.

I clear my throat before responding, mentally hoping the past few hours of being a mute wouldn't affect the use of my vocal cords now. "Yes, we were."

James smirks at the meek response, knowing I was in Hell at this gala. "I was running a little late," he states, looking around and smiling to those listening in around us before bending closer to the two of us and whispering, "I really didn't want to be here tonight."

My husband's laugh echos throughout the hall, his hand coming down on James' shoulder as the other goes to his stomach as if he's in pain from laughing-- My husband is always coming in with the theatrics."I'll tell you what, you see the misses home and I'll tell everyone you had food poisoning and couldn't stay."

My heart manages to leap to my throat while also falling to my ass as he says this. "What?" I question, looking up at my husband in utter shock. He is definitely winning this game of ours.

He fakes an inquisitive, worried look, the hand on my back running up to my shoulder as he gives an Oscar worthy performance of being concerned. "Didn't you say you wanted to go home? I'd hate to torture you, my love. Let James take you home, I'm sure he will take good care of you... right James?"

James is nodding softly, equally as confused as I am, but seemingly not as nervous because James had to put his fist in his pocket to hide his excitement.

I bite my tongue as I wrap my arm around James', allowing him to guide me out of the gala hall while my husband stood still, waving to us as I glance back at him.

It felt too easy which made me extremely uneasy.

I raised Hell, froze it over, and then rose it again when I caught him cheating on me... I only forgave him for the sake of the campaign. There was no way he would knowingly allow this to happen, especially with his best friend.

Nonetheless, James and I neared the front door when we heard my husband clearing his throat and getting the attention of the crowd before yelling, "Isn't that so cute, everyone? The love of my life is leaving to go home with the love of hers!"

I grew up thinking love

was like the Disney films.

Princess finds her Prince Charming and they live happy ever after.

I was wrong.

My first love was suppose to be the one.

The one to give me butterflies in my stomach.

My best friend.

The person I could see myself marrying and having kids.

I was blinded by love.

My first love was not my last love.

Just one of many.

I thought I feel in love over and over.

Replacing each lover with another lover.

Bunny hoping in and out of relationships.

Looking for my Prince Charming.

I was blinded by love.

Then it happened, I knew I had never know love until I met him.

Years of longing to hold love tight.

To find my perfect fit.

He became my bestfriend,

My lover

My everything.

I thought I knew love, though I’d never experienced it. Through countless boyfriends and even a husband. I finally met someone. Who opened my eyes to a new level of connection. I knew in my heart what it was. But it was ripped away. By distance. And a fresh divorce. I knew I loved him when I no longer had his heart.

It is said that the chicken came before the egg

But for this topic I don't know where to start

So I'll start here instead

What do we teach our children

At home and at school

Is there any substance in their educational learning

Or are we too busy trying to make them fit in and be cool

Are our homes broken?

Do we live behind white picket fence?

Or are we busy playing happy family

Leaving the children ignorant and dense

In this social world where everything looks glamorous and free

These are the tricks of the media and the TV

Who doesn't want to be a Cardi B or a Nicki Minaj

But the road to their success story is like a mirage

No one digs deep in these back stories, that's too much trouble

Get rich quick or die trying like 50 Cents that's the best hustle

We know the world we live in

There is a lot of racism and nepotism

There is a saying that Black don't crack

Well let me answer that

Black does crack when their communities don't work together

Black does crack when there are not enough resources for one other

Black does crack when the education system is whack

Same dusty old equipments using in the classrooms from 1900's way way back

Black does crack when one parent is in the home

What are they going to teach their child when they are still a child of their own

Black does crack when the system is none existing

It's on paper but there is no implementing

Black does crack when they are the minority but gets blamed as the majority

Black does crack when nothing is explained, but they are the first to get blamed

So the question was; 1000 black lives a day are aborted - did they matter?

When Black cracks it usually runs red

Red blood, leading to another one dead

1000 black lives a day are aborted,

This was a crack that took way too long to be reported

Did they matter?

Yes it did

No one wants to be scraped on the inside to kill a kid.

So where to start?

I really don't know

The system

Uncle Sam

The parents

School

Society

At Home?