Forgone

The rain brings solace
To the skin of shea butter and golden sand
Connecting with the cleansing of the droplets
The queen positioned the pillows
Sitting adjacent against sorrows
The brutal display of natures reverence
Clipped the wings of this song bird
Snoh’s and Giveon’s sultry whispered to her candles flames
Hovering with the dance of doubt
The pattern of the ballet scripted decamping
The uphill torment attacked her muscles
Cramping from the dehydration 
Peace had long forgone from split second decisions
Committed to evolution while stuck in the cycle of tampering with incompatibility
She was shy with confidence
Her tongue was plastered in its chamber
Concrete slabs of paralysis 
Kept her truth behind guarded stages
Interfering with the curtains 
Avoiding the shadows where the light whispered
Infidelity was the easy way out
Yet pride stuffed her into faithful shells
Trigger happy always leads to torment
Unfulfilled settled notions
Captured the once promiscuous spirit
Into imprisoned vaults of unease 
Experiencing the sharpened claws of fate
Cowardice faded from internal therapy sessions
The pieces were retrieved shielding for battle
Consequently this chapter came to a haunting halt. 

Therapy Sessions

Blank pages can be so threatening in their empty state
Challenging the best pen pusher to illustrate
Sometimes unforgiven banter
The mind is a colossal cannon filled with ammunition
Attempting to tame the hype beast of previous compositions
This realm was not meant for the weak and meager to live in
Unprovoked tones conquered in the shadows 
Preparing the humble tongue to stumble 
Spewing fire as it tripped out of its protected space
The shy lioness creeps at the opening of her chambers
Hesitant to trust as the introvert retreated

Peace wasn’t a definitive definition

As the walls closed around

Expectations squeezing the zodiac between improper templates

The tomb of doom was a cognizant place of capture

Freedom bore its face as a relay

Fitness was simply a matter of stretching limits

Third person was the perfect getaway

Hiding behind partially fictionalized literature

It protected the brilliant spirit from uncertainties

But for certain she understood her hearts desires

Creeping behind the waterfalls escaping structured cheek bones

The riots became constant on sleepless nights

Providing a safe haven away from reciprocation

While the war zone became inflamed with split personalities

Sexuality was never a designated method of display

There was freedom in spontaneity

Embracing the fallen puzzle pieces of stricken memories

She struggled verbalizing her battles

Self imposed therapy sessions 

Clinging to the calm persona

Praying to be whole in her skin

Reciprocation meant altering without exterminating

Building a home that was merely walls and slab

The explanations were plentiful

As the weight became painful

They say you have to tear muscles during the strengthening phase

Ripping at the core as arthritis set in

Numbing the pain with western medicine fixes

Drifting into solemn regret

Attempting to avoid the door of resentment

Fixated on readjusting

Scratching at the bruises

The bandages replaced and redressed 

Yet the bleeding seeped through

Unfairly uncomfortable in a presumptive love

Demons sure have their way of playing hide and seek

Yet what she seeks is not what she sought

Checking the receipts

Examining the return period

Unsure if damaged goods are accepted

Preparing to swallow the loss of a restocking fee

But damn!!! This still looks good on me though? RIGHT?