I Fell In Love With A Married Guy And I’m Not Really Into Apologizing For It

One day, I am going to write on this topic. One day.

Don’t Fall in Love with a Married Man

I think this is one topic that is totally frowned upon. I want to write about it. I don’t know where to begin. So in the meantime I read about it. And share with you.

If I love you, you will know.

Nothing to lose

“[…] we had nothing to lose and lost it anyway…”

— Joy Harjo, “Grace,” In Mad Love and War

Qoute101

When I roll over and shake the sleep off my skin, I want to find you. ~~ Tyler Knot Gregson

Warsan Shire- The London Story

“Afraid of what love may ask of us, we fill the space with noise and pets.
Worship and diets.
Black-outs and beauty products.
Sleeping pills and dinner parties.
Porn and apathy.

“I hold your hand as we drive through the city towards whatever is beautiful.
I feel my bad memories dispel like puffs of smoke – one by one.
You wear a white glove and pull my sorrow out by the ears.

I look out into the river and when I look back at you, your eyes are wide spinning plates in the dark.

I thought love skipped past women who looked like me.
Tenderness had failed my mother and her mother.
In the right light, you can see their faces in mine when I look up at you from under your good weight. At the park, I watch you blow smoke out of your perfect mouth.
You’re afraid of lying down with me and never wanting to get up again.
That scares me too.
Comfort that consumes you.

I try to imagine what our daughters would look like.
Their obvious beauty embarrasses me.

We’re all slightly ruined by the things we’ve grazed against.

I dance with you in the dark, the grass under us still growing.
Press my mouth to your ear to say “Ameen”,
which is to say there is nothing more to say,
which is to say I have never been so sure.

I prayed for you and here you are, ameen.”

– Warsan Shire

The London Story

Confronting Storms- Rae Lyric

I picked up this line from one of my favorite blogs. It just resonated with me and I thought let me share.

”I am not afraid of confronting storms, of being broken without the prospect of being mended again. Just so you know, I sometimes chase hurt so I have things to write about so do not shine your ego with thoughts of you you broke the spirit of a strong woman by you own doing. Never that. I fell for you on purpose”

If you want to read the whole post, here is the link.  http://raelyricscribes.com/category/fiction-2/woman-to-woman-tales/

One of my fave’s

Men Made From Fire Balls

He was the pieces that kept your throat together, from bursting because the heart stays there , constantly, alongside his name. He was the parts of you that your mother tried to conceal from the boys. She warned about how they come and want to make a home in your uterus.

But never about the man that comes, reaches for you, touches you like his love depends on you never breaking, never skipping a breath. She never told you about the man whose lips carve his name on your skin, steals your sanity and walks away with it slowly, leaving you to fend for the missing parts you never knew existed.

You were only warned about the boys that come and want to toy with you and tire you out because honestly boys never know where to begin with you.

She should have told you that that man will bring you winter in summer. That your soul grows cold, that all the poems in the world will never heal you. She didn’t tell you that men like him build homes in your rib cage but never long enough to settle in and have supper with your heart.

You should know, women mourn men like him as if they birthed them. You will mourn him till you catch your breath and realize an eternity later, he still resides in the depths that your soul reaches.

You should have buried him before he kissed the back of your neck with the stars glancing down on you, before he said all he feels for you is scary and terrifying, before he could look at you and draw out your soul with his eyes, before touching him felt like a bolt of fire, before his hands on your body made you think you’ve glimpsed heaven, before you could break down his words and breathes and attempt suicide by trying to figure out what he meant.

Before he killed you by just merely saying your name, before your name, in his mouth, constituted to daggers and spades in your heart.

But he always tasted like he belongs. And you found a way not to die from his poison. Yet you are buried somewhere deep between closure and your hot scorching memories of him.

Memories of his power and his poetry.

Laughter

There is no better taste than someone’s laughter in your mouth. ~ Author Unknown

Shatter

Some people fall in love. I shatter. ~ Stephen Merritt