and so it goes...

i look at frowns the same way a newborn views

smiles. Familiar and welcoming – never have to do too much to

receive them but they come with every breath I take. I

meet them like I greet the night; allow him to mount me and

remind me what my 3am feels like. smells like. tastes like,

midnight snacks that satisfy me the way the world never could. Yet,

here I am. Standing on the auction box you made in woodshop with my

hands tied with your expectations and my legs bound with your

judgment. Hair brushed with my

pride and tied with the prejudice bow you gave me on my 18th birthday.

Who’ll take this corrupt negro for $20?

She drinks and smokes and dances beyond midnight to the infectious

rhythm all our hearts make when we sin. You can

scold her for her indulgence and poison her with water you deem holy.

Going once, going

twice – sold - to the man wearing his expectations around his neck like an

expensive bowtie or

is that the noose you’ll tie around my throat for being who I am?

But wait,

who are you to judge me for anything less than the

ten nine ten I deserve? We both sing the blues baby- but because mine is

acapella, not ever the right note, always the right lyrics but louder and

prouder than you in the church choir; you’re allowed to condemn me to

hell. Honey,

the two of us hum our lewd hallelujahs and drink nothing but moonshine

in the starlight but the sun only seems to tell on me. Tell

the world the secrets I showed you under my sheets when I acted

like the freak the streets make illicit. I’m explicit with my quick witted

tongue and the swerve of my hips and the glint in my eye lets you hear my

conscious as she calls me daily, asking me when I’ll be

that girl again. Lady, you know I’ll never leave behind the

murmurs that merge with the moonlight. I’m proud of the bones

that build my being. ‘cause once you break the bricks we hide behind, the

skeletons in our closets all look the same. I

plunged into love once,

twice, three times

removed me from the lifestyle I live now

followed men into the Heavenly pits of Hell where

nobody was judged. Had dinner with the devil and cosigned on my lover’s lease;

offered to pay in heart and soul when he missed a payment. Left my

mind out of the

agreement so I would have something to

write this poem with.

Let them lift up my black veil so they could kiss the real me.

Here comes the bride, but,

since then

I never seem to fall in love anymore. I crash into it. Never on

purpose, always

an accident. A suicide attempt of the remainder of my heart as it

tries to heal the scars of love

slashed across my wrists,

gashed across my neck, bitten on my thighs

and punched on my arms – bruises, black in rue.

And I don’t know about you but

that is why,

ex lover of mine,

is why

I sing the blues.