She Serendipity
I’ve revealed my all only to feel naked, and vulnerable to the touch,
yet satisfied that I beat the combustion that built up inside of me. My insides
Are swollen, she’s taken over my thoughts and ideas, wants and needs.
Mental telepathy tries its course, why won’t you answer? What I feel really
can’t be translated from pen to paper, you’ve deprived me of my own
comprehensions, my speech is impediment, I know you feel me why fight?
It’s a bout I wish you not win. Yes I’ve loved, and have been in love, but
you’re the only woman that has me utilizing my pen in a different way,
which was once used to create works of art now being used as a weapon
unloading a vast of emotions. The sheets under my right feel my pain. Don’t
You see we should be seen as you and I, not you then I? There’s a reason for
all things and for all things there’s a reason, if that statement is true why
does my insides do what they do? Where this comes from is indescribable.
It’s there but then it isn’t, it’s Strong but then it’s weak. Have mercy on my
soul, you excite me even in your absence, I can’t shake you as if hooked on
drugs, after a dose of you I become greedy and go beyond yearning, it’s an
unknown condition I experience, I only know that the cure is you, and I
haven’t even had you, and I know you’re all of what will complete me, and you.
Brandi Graham
5/4/2005
|