Jim Crows Inmate

Inmate,
Another nameless, faceless criminal taken off the streets
within the skip of a hearts beat
Another shameless, brainless hazard to society
Locked up behind bars, for no less than 25 years
To protect the "righteous" members of this community
To keep him away from us in accordance to the government’s strategy

Inmate, another man walking through the halls of this prison complexity
Another violent offender, another one resisting arrest
Another one refusing to surrender, another plea of innocence
Obviously a lie, no matter how hard he fights and insists
Another one chasing his aspirations, chasing the American dream
Another street corner celebrity with mad street credibility because of a family history of inherited criminality

Inmate, another one sharing a space of four walls with no windows
Dividing the crowded space, forced to live with men he can't stand because there isn’t room for them and his thoughts but
He's gotten used to the noise, the struggle, the violence, the putrid smell...of fear...and uncertainty
He has used his voice, tried to reach out and can't stand this living hell, that has no purgatory
The courts don't care, the warden don't care, the CO's couldn't care less
He is on his own, living to eat and for the civility of other men
His life has become one mess which was once promising and blessed, now he would do ANYTHING to see his family again
And to think that all of this happened because of a friend
Which didnt make sense Until that one day he tried to make a quick buck one night because this thing that we call minimum wage which means that if America could pay less they would…wasn’t cutting it

Inmate, you can see through it and reach through it but you can't walk out that threshold
You can't use the phone, only one plate at lunch, there's never room for 'I want more' or 'my food is too cold'
In the belly of the beast the dragon pleas to be unleashed
To be released into the crease this paradise of demons, so he can enjoy a century of war.
However the police that wrongfully accused him, are still out there probably smiling underneath, because they are the real thieves by stealing a life while not accepting defeat..

Inmate, another young black man working on these concrete cotton fields for free
Another American chain gang shackle, another victim of modern day slavery
Another young black king convicted for the darkness of his skin
For the poorness of his wealth, for his mental health, for the prejudice about his kin

Into this new era of Jim Crow,
Where even when he does becomes free, will still remained shackled by the system
Can’t find a job, can’t vote, can’t live his life the way he wishes to live it
A member of this new social undercaste that makes an untouchable seem more of a citizen the moment he checks the box that asks if he has a criminal record on an application
Surprisingly less than three fifths of a man..
Which makes one question how can one make ends meet when the only occupation that will accept him…are the streets
So all that's left to do to make due is to do the same thing that got him there in the first place
Once again he will be a paper chaser, who will be fighting to stay alive to fulfill the dream he sought before he caught this case
Rent is too expensive, his child needs new clothes and no money is coming in
So he will try his luck in gambling and hustling, becoming a prison style money maker…again…
A beast among the animals in this struggle for life, doing his own time on these acres of hell that we call… America
Land of the free….unless you used to be locked up
Free…but the scars from the handcuffs will forever remain existent and the figurative noose marks from the system that tried to bury him, will still glare red on his neck
What once was love is not the past, hatred feeds the hater and his lost soul dwells steadfast
Until…he is back into the same purgatory that consumed him previously
And this vicious cycle of inmates leaving prison only to go back because they are not accepted into society…will continue…and although these members of society have names they will forever be known as…inmate

My Bleeding Pen

My pen only bleeds what I see in real life..

As I plant and plow the nucleus of uniqueness into each bit of prose

in order to make it satiate the needs of my convictions

In addition to enabling others to heed my recognition as

they read in wonderment and suspicion about which alter ego I choose to portray

Day to day I make an attempt of not trying to attempt to please others with my passion, emotion and dismay.

But trying to be myself but conceal aspects of myself that allows others to be themselves

Not in efforts to teach but so others can absorb the blood oozing from my pen like a leech

You see, this pen retains all the feelings that I possess...

The spilling of the ink symbolizing my distress and

The evenflow of my thoughts,

even flows even through the mental bloodclots

becoming more strengthened with every I dotted and t crossed.

As each idea that is tossed in my head eventually blemishes the tablet as I scribe

as if I am in a trance...

As my pen bleeds, it leaves figurative stains that become so embedded that

No matter how many times I attempt to wash it out,

it will forever exist

In the midst of trying to clean up my life of the dust settling within the mist

Each stain symbolizing each aspect of life that makes me who I am today

All vividly created within my literal and metaphoric tablets that has both undergone a metrical composition of a blood transfusion to prevent a comatose,

Which has become so versified that all blood types seem to be a match

but I cease to allow more to flow to prevent an overdose

So as my pen bleeds I constantly need a mental IV in order to remain balanced

as I continue to quench these paean thoughts.

Aspirations start to become an actuality as life imitates art

Even if only for a moment as I place myself into the mindset of what minds desires or hope that would transpire as to inspire what is next

And as my pen continues to bleed,

only my pen can dissect the enigma that is my thoughts as to eloquently bisect the intertwining of my minds wants and needs so I never know what to expect.

Poetry is....ME....and my pen…is my lifeline

As my pen bleeds...what I see...in life

Are you a girl...or a grown woman

Are You a girl….or a grown woman??
Contrary to popular belief many women out there claim they are grown while
possessing none of the qualities shown, but that in fact of a girl...

Girls leave their schedule wide-open and wait for a guy to call and make plans.
Grown women make their own plans and nicely tell the guy to get in where he fits

Girls want to control the man in their life.
Grown women know that if he is truly hers, he doesn't need controlling.

Girls check you for not calling them.
Grown women are too busy to realize you hadn't.

Girls are afraid to be alone.
Grown women revel in it-using it as a time for personal growth.

Girls ignore the good guys.
Grown women ignore the bad guys.

Girls make you come home.
Grown women make you want to come home.

Girls worry about not being pretty and/or good enough for their man.
Grown women know that they are pretty and/or good enough for any man.

Girls try to monopolize all their man's time ( I.e., don't want him hanging with his friends).
Grown women realize that a lil' bit of space makes the 'together time' even more special-and goes to kick it with her own friends!

Girls think a guy crying is weak. Grown women offer their shoulder and a tissue.
Girls want to be spoiled and 'tell' their man so.

Grown women 'show' him and make him comfortable enough to reciprocate without fear of losing his 'manhood'.
Girls get hurt by one man and make all men pay for it.

Grown women know that that was just one man. Girls fall in love and chase aimlessly after the object of their affection, ignoring all 'signs'.
Grown women know that sometimes the one you love, don't always love you back-and move on, without bitterness.

Which one are you?

The Sexual Encounter

…She knows that she is looking good
And as she walks past me I slowly approach her.
Removing her clothes already with my eyes and planning my next move
As if it were already prearranged.
Because I don't think that she is ready for the calisthenic activity
in which we are about to engage.
So...we meet in the center like two warriors ready for battle
And I whisper in your ear,
Sweet things that make you weak,
those pleasurable nothings that makes you lick your lips while you don't speak about the future climax that you seek.
So our lips introduce themselves to one another, in such a way that
causes serene bliss while,
Thoughts of the best case formulate because we both do not know what to expect.
So I make the first move and,
Guide my lips and tongue to that spot on your neck
That aligns your earth and makes the rivers begin to flow
Creating that “we are not in Kansas anymore”, type of show and
Creates that happiness of the first winters snow and
You finally realize that all systems are go….
So you remove your dress, and as I
Look at the body in which you have blessed with and
My eyes seem to be transfixed and obsessed with your every move and
The bequest that I request that we suggest becomes more vibrant and
I confess that I would detest anything that would hinder this moment
So as we reach the rated r version of this diversion, my tongue and lips yearn to finish its excursion
So it travels further down your body,
My hands roam freely like the autumn leaves in the calm wind and
Down to your breasts, giving each sibling ample time so it,
Doesn’t feel as if one is neglected and so that both can pass a appropriate inspection while you just lay there, eyes rolling to the back of your head.
And my tongue begins to further its voyage, down to your waist as your panties start to shed
And I realize that now my manhood starts to ascend while
Your body starts to comprehend this feeling.
I decide to take a sample from your spring, while my tongue discovers every labia and
While it is the best thing I’ve ever tasted I can hear her whispering, telling me to enter,
So my manhood becomes intertwined with her womanhood and
The room spins as we become taken aback from this feeling so much that even the walls begin to sweat as they should
We don’t need any music because the sound of our breathing and her moaning create enough ambience as it would.
And as I go faster and faster, she asks for me to go deeper.
The temperature starts to rise as though
The tempo slowly reaches the rhythm of a crescendo
And we both know it as the veins in my neck and the whites of her eyes start to show
As we switch positions, you begin to hastily moan as I realize that I have found that spot and
The muscles in my leg are telling me to stop but I am going tocontinue to go until I feel your thighs…..lock….
So as I am making her bed and her world rock and
As we experience the fictional shell shock, our
bodies are playing in tune to similar harmonies
As we play cadences of our African American history
We both realize that this moment was at moment in the making, thus solving
The secrets to her mystery as she is passionately kisses me
And as if it were synchronized in a flash in time I feel her climax as I culminate and release while
She squeezes the mattress crease, screams in the pillow andclenches her teeth
And at that point of time we wanted time to bring to a standstill as I am laying beneath
And so we lay…Her chest stuck to mine as
We gaze into each other’s eyes as we realize that what had occurred was something more than sex
And with every reflex… we reflect as
The moon of dusk has now becomes dawn as the sweat is pouring off of our backs as I realize that
Love is a matter of chemistry, but sex is a matter of physics
In which polar opposite charges attract.

Me...In so many words

I am ...
A man
With a heavy heart, bathed in obscurity
Somewhere in an empty room ...
With eyes not quite of autumn's gold, and yet
Neither all of winters grey;

I wonder ...
If love is a fable made for children
A enchantment of sweet dreams in their innocence
A honey-coating to help their throats
Choke down the bitter drought ...

I hear ...
A voice that whispers warnings, half-spoken,
Bodiless as hope, until I swear I cannot draw
Another breath unless this ghastly figure be unmasked,
The lies mangled beneath my righteous tread;

I see ...
A man, proud, God fearing, uncompromising,
As sheer as air - less, even, than the tears
That fall in desolation about his weary feet,
Salt poison pooled upon the withered ground ...

I want ...
A measure of quietude, a certain silence,
The echo of loneliness which heals me of dreaming,
The nothing that stills the wanting,
The numb, the cold that chuckles at pain;
I am
A man,
hidden ...

I pretend ...
That I can live forever,
That Time
Has no power but that which I afford Him
And so, I can wait, I can be happy tomorrow,
Sleep is for the dead; but its ghosts haunt my waking ...

I feel ...
Too much, yet too deeply to be without direction,
Too real for imagining, and yet the familiar eyes
Hold nothing of recognition, only my reflection
A meeting of shadows in sunlit glass;

I touch ...
The downy wings of hope, in wonder,
In reverence, in need, in hunger;
Alas, it burns my fingers as a flame,
A sacrilege, self-defined ...

I worry ...
That I am alone; that in my longing
I have forsaken all, but what a reward,
What smile divine should light the path to freedom
And how can I but heed the siren's call?

I'm tired ...
For doing too much, without worrying about myself, for fear of bursting,
And then, when by the pouring of my soul
I lie, a vessel emptied, I think deeply again
Of when people would worry about me
For what was had, and lost;
I am
A man,
empty ...

I understand
That life is what you make it,
That sometimes, the facade of many colors
That marks your triumphs brightly, blends only
To the loneliest of grey ...

I say
That we are made by life, shaped,
Broken, perhaps unmade and voided
But always, the core of us remains, waiting
With only faith, with trust, to be reborn;

I dream
Of bluest waters, reaching
With unnatural hands toward the faded sky,
Of dolphins that wander in seas without limits,
Carrying me water-breathing past corals and clouds ...

I try ...
To lead by example, knowing
That merely the telling holds no power;
A gift of giving has the power of a day, while
A gift of knowledge has the lifespan of forever;

I hope ...
That my darkness embraces you gently,
That pain is halved by sharing, that feeling
Wields nothing past the words it summons,
Except that it touch you with only healing ...
I am...what I can only be...ME

In her eyes

I look into her eyes...but I see nothing there but pools of withdrawal, remorse, and sorrow
In her eyes, she's been hurt by people who she thought she could trust, and she thought it was a must to confide in, and in her heart they would reside in...but was here today, gone tomorrow

In her eyes, she thought those same people would remain in her life.
However, these eyes are the same ones that peeved her, were the same ones that listened and received her, but didn't even trust and believe her
Telling her that they would be here to retrieve her.... but all they did was deceive her. 

Over time, these eyes of hers tended to see fantasy rather than reality, full of empty promises.
They tend to feel what they want to feel. 
Tend to know what they want to know, but not what SHE wanted to know....and created an eerie pall of sorrow

Why can't these eyes see what is truly there?
Through this crystal stair, they can see those flaws in the surface.
Why can't these eyes finally believe that the people who 
Hurt her are the people who are waiting, and hoping and praying to see her fall?
And through it all, will not be there to pick her up.
Why are her eyes full of salty tears as she is given a constant reminder of the pain?

However, these eyes are learning something new.
These eyes are noticing the only few people in her life worth having, and embracing them
The few people in her life that won't make her eyes shed tears of sadness
But a tear of happiness

For these are the people which she can clearly see that will be there for her.
In her eyes, she knows that these people that she trusts will not hurt her and look out for her best interests...being the wind beneath her wings, as she slowly ascends toward the sun in cloudy skies.
And In her eyes, she knows who will last........ forever.

Americas Nightmare

Americas Nightmare

You See…I am a member of an elite group…

Even though it constitutes within the 99% percent of those with the 1% of the wealth it

Contains 100% of the ambition and potential that exists within our society that

Still silently sees us as 60% of a human being but constitutes 75% of the money spent per day

While our men populate 60% of those in prison, but only 15% actually deserve to be there while being profiled 85% percent of time…but hey…you do the math

This group

Which Continues to live the dream that King laid for us while,

Remaining awake through a great revolution and

Keeping in mind the notion of the ballot AND the bullet while also

Surviving the nightmare that seems to never escape us day by day

Dreams of success and happiness continue to formulate within our minds as we

Take baby steps in hopes of reaching the promise land

Constantly and consistently fighting to not be a statistic while

Remaining simplistic and artistically linguistic

Being somewhat materialistic but never seeking unrealistic needs while being opportunistic and

Taking heed to the system that is not designed for us

And taking the road less traveled which ironically is a road aligned for us

We are known as the Invisible Women and Men

The Ralph Ellison’s of the world

Hidden from the masses because the media and the government only focuses on things that demean our race by making those the headlines while the things that matter most, which would allow us to maintain our pride and boast….are swept under the rug

It’s a disgrace that in the light of positivity, negativity seems to overshadow it

However the reasons that we are constantly overlooked is because we have the power to singlehandedly take this world by storm, and the government cannot STAND it

So they have PLANNED it by planting it, drugs, liquor and guns, as a way to attack EACH OTHER

As way to keep EACH OTHER from uplifting EACH OTHER

However recently we have seen past the mystification

Day by Day teaching one so that each one can be the future leaders that we have become

While the government fights to increases those numbers of us imprisoned because

What is currently happening with our race is not what they envisioned

So they arrest us for petty crimes to break down our pride

Like for hopping a bus or a broken tail light

While those that possess the wealth are ones who are the real criminals…..but I digress…

This group…the Invisible Women and Men

Are Indivisible, and becoming the new Nat Turners and Booker T Washingtons…the new talented tenth

Becoming more involved by social change while possessing knowledge of how the world was and is

Successful in every regard with our fist silently in the air….Excellence while showing society that old habits die young

Obtaining power by the use of our knowledge and character…Not in our wealth

Instead of being granted our 40 acres…we are earning it

We are slowly showing the world that we refuse to lie down and be attacked

Because you see this group that I belong to….that we belong to are our dreams….but Americas Nightmare…..Young….Gifted…..and Black

Eye of Seduction

We lock eyes….and she seduces me

As I look into her eyes
all that seems important is trivial now.

there is no deadline to meet, no meeting to run to, no project to think of.

Because Her eyes are where the skies meet the sea
The sudden subtle change from the lighter
Shade that, though bent, can go on forever
To the partition of inflected darkness
Hiding secrets the world wouldn’t care about anyway
But I do…
Then there are the specks of gold
The sun reaching down to graze the surface with unbelievable tenderness
Seeming to drive deep, still seeming to float
On the Surface, yet welling up from within
Some silhouette of her amazing light
And I’m blinded…

Because she seduced me….with just her eyes

I Want to Have an Affair

So...I want to have an affair
Yea, we preach against infidelity,
But its my curiosities and your insecurities that make it more intriguing. 
I guess that 20 percent, although small, has had a high magnitude and as
You leave for work and as usual we argue, my phone starts furiously ringing. 
I guess the feelings have overcome you as well. 

Weeks and weeks of just "talking"
Stating the obvious with no action.
Talking a good game, but with no training to adequately back it up...until a knock on my door

So...you come over..
In just a trench coat and some red heels
Just like page 37 in that Zane novel, my fantasies become more vivid.

So..we go to the room and
As you remove your trench coat I realize your wardrobe, mmm,mmm,mmm vickis secret, my favorite brand. 
And you take my hand and begin to kiss my neck
The tensions begin to rise because we both know what to expect...and so does my manhood.

So, as we remove each article of clothing, our hands message each others bodys, no need for baby oil because our bodies are covered in each others lust. 
I'm feeling young again, because since all she is doing is working, I need to erase this ring rust...its a must

And I begin to think about how, this won't complicate things, because after all of this, it is still considered a fling, so my goal is to make her moan and have her soul scream..in a harmonious melody. 

Her body begins to yearn for me as foreplay is not longer enough
We begin the next phase, I lay her on the bed and although silent I gaze into her eyes, and realize that..she wants it rough.

So, yea...I'm having an affair, and it feels goooood. I guess if she wouldve pleased me as she should this scenario would be a "would of" instead of a "might of or could of" but...let's return to our regularly scheduled program

You begin to dig your nails in my back as I go deeper, switching rhythms like a metronome that's unsure of the tempo and as we begin to climax...the sound of keys in the door begin to become more audible.

O shit! She's home...how the hell am I going to find an excuse that is plausible in such a way that I remain credible...images of me saying, "Yea I never seen her a day in my life" or "these earrings are yours " begin to formulate as she is hastily trying to find an exit. 

Realizing that there is no way out, my soldier still stout as we begin thinking about, how the hell you are going to get out. And as I find a turtle neck to make the scratches and hickeys obscure, I begin to hear her mouth. "Baby, you still here?"
Now my nervousness becomes fear as her footsteps begin to make its way to the room, and I realize that soon 1+1 =3 will not seem like the right math.

"I'm glad you found your way over, now we can start"...as she kisses her...my mouth agape, I realize that maybe she had the last laugh....or did she...you decide.

Fatherhood...

Fathers- so many here, but so many missing
As I question the existence of this life and where it is taking me,
I think about my father, and how he wasn't here faithfully.
I won't use hate...as a matter of fact...yea, I hate that nigga
But I figure that I'm bigger than that so
I'll oppose the negative synergies as my feelings saturate like paint thinner.
You left me when I was 3, and never seen my potential
I screamed that I hated you!
At the top of my lungs, but
Mom said that hate is a strong word so
I guess I just really don't like you
And when she's not around the thing that I hate most about you is that I'm scared
That imma end up just like YOU.

Why?
Why do I not want to be you?
You are a pompous snake who,
Never took the time to actually get to know your son and unravel
All the gifts that he possesses
Who left a precious seed to fend for himself
Like a hungry vagabond who continues to blindly travel.

And by the time I will meet you, you will say
Bye whenever I finally get to say hi
And unconsciously my inside cries,
But yet my face remains dry
Because I will not let you see my emotion
Because you have filled me with cold veins as
Your life is now in vain but
No matter how successful I become it will never erase the pain
Of you being absent.

A lot of fathers are farther than families
A lot are farther than fathers are meant to be
But,in all realness some are actually fathers, while some are just "daddys"
But...I thank you, because thanks to your "efforts"
I know what I do not want to be
I WILL be there for my kids
Unlike you who wasn't there for me
And the sad reality is, you KNOW where I reside
...I guess you looking me in the face and staring at my eyes would affect your pride
Because on the inside you actually realize that the man I am today,
Has NOTHING to do with what you did, and more so of what you didn't do for me
And while my feelings and my knowledge for you starts to diminish
I realize that you do not possess qualities of a true man because
You started something....that you couldn't finish.

Trials and Tribulations

He screamed at her…
While the look in her eyes was something of complete fear and
She backed away from his path slowly while his rage ensued
All the while he was getting mad and,
Flipping over the couch, because she was late preparing his food.
All that passes in her mind was,
Her girlfriends constantly telling her to watch his temper but
She was so deep in love; she thought she would get past all of that until…

He hit her…
With a closed fist and enough force that,
It caused her to be taken aback and
Remind her of the times of the fights between her mom and dad
How she would hide in the back room crying and screaming
Because mom also thought that he was the best friend she ever had…
Now she lies with a crimson fist print in her face and a single tear in her eye
Never in her life she thought that he would do this to her
She recalls the time when they met and
Him claiming that he is not like other guys
And now, pools of remorse stream down her eyes
As she wonders where she went wrong…
All of sudden, he charges her, wringing his hands around her neck and ripping her clothes off her body until…

He rapes her…
And while she is kicking and screaming and no one hears her
He continues to unleash his rage and
So it seems as if the relationship has unraveled and has come of age
The last petal has finally fell from the rose that,
really didn’t have any roots to begin with
So she screams and screams and she punches and kicks until…

She gets away…
Out the door and down the steps, screaming, hoping that someone hears her cry,
However since the neighbors are used to the screaming of this “couple”
This time they turn a blind eye.
So she runs, not only for her safety, but also out of her mind.
And during every step, and every stride that she makes,
It only angers him, thinking to himself that she is making a big mistake.
And as she cuts the corner, thinking that she is finally free from his tyrannical grasp…

He catches her…
And she starts screaming and trying to escape
However he tells her to stop…
And stares at her….
And to her surprise, the same look of anger is not in his eyes,
But this time, it is a look of docility,
And this look has the ability
To give her the stability and support that she needed.
Because after all of her beckons for help
Someone made sure that it was heeded.
So he took her to safety, to refuge so that,
Her life can no longer in shambles due to the mental recluse and
She can move on to better beginnings….

And as I conclude, let me say that
A relationship, is a close special bond where,
Man and woman intertwine
Where the synergies of their world are truly divine.
So, when it is being tested, think about
How it has changed from its original ideology
And know when to leave when it evolves into tyranny

Wrong Place, Wrong Time

So I think about her...and think about her 

Come to find out that,

She is a beautiful soul that

Isn't appreciated by the person she confides in at home

So I decide to write to her to provide an prologue to the novel of our relationship

But...Sometimes I feel as if,
I cannot thoroughly describe my thoughts as I scribe on this pallet
As if her looks and personality doesn't already speak volumes. 

Her looks and her attitude create perfect harmony, and its those aesthetic synergies that have me yearning for her attention.

And sometimes I feel as if she should've been mine.
As if in another life its me she is holding passionately, instead of him.

The image is so vivid I feel as if it had already occurred.
One by one, three matches are lit in the night
The first to see her face
The second to see her eyes
The last to see her lips
I caress her body from head to toe tip
So when its dark all around, I can remember it all
While holding her in my arms.
I want to be the subject to her predicate, the yin to her yang, the reason why she sings.

And sometimes I wonder why...
Why is she subject to the insecurities
And all the abnormalities that the relationship entails. 
And I wish that I can tell her that I can be her knight in shining armor while 
releasing her from those troublesome burdens that exists from someone who thinks that "she's too good for me"

And sometimes I wish that I can look into those pools of remorse and transform them into oceans of realization as she sketches a portrait within my heart. 
But I realize from the start that I'm wanting something that I cannot have, but I feel that I can have anything I want if I give up the belief that I can't. 

Sometimes, 
I feel as if she feels the same way.
As if day to day she wonders how it wouldve been if she said no to him and yes to me...

Another Round

So months turn to years, and the attraction I have for you has grown stronger, to the point where it starts to become lust no longer,

So now I want to love you, not only as a partner but as a couple in too deep

And as the feeling of lust evaporates the enchantment if love begins to seep

I want to love you in a special way like glass, adamantine strong but crystal clear.

As I hold you near I whisper in your ear things that would alleviate our worst fears.
I want to make love to your every intricacy by first squeezing and sucking your breasts to quench my thirst.
Then gently at first blowing love through your lips and making love to your lungs,

As I grab your hips and start to use my tongue

My heart squeezes yours and mines together until your mind blows,
And you can't think.

I want to bite your neck, sending a sexual sensation through your nervous impulses and into your heart,
Pumping love in and out through your veins until it reaches your feet,
And your toes begin to curl.

I want to stroke you gently and softly to caress not only your being,
But to feel the warmth of your flesh.
Your body next to mine, holding and embracing with the connection of a lock and key of life and love so you can't let go or go to the next one.

Let me love you hard so I can drill through your hurts and your pains,

Paving and laying bricks to guard your heart from your trials and tribulations.

Building a dam so that when your flesh feels weak your spirit won't break from the wear and tear of the enigma that is called life

Let me love you over and over again as though it were a climactic story that never ends.

If you were my book the letters of your words would be carved in my heart as though it were a novel felt, but never read.

This is the way to love, you have to love easy but feel hard.

You have to pay the price of sacrifice in order to grow a love, which is deeply fulfilling.

Showing respect to every fiber of her being

That is the best way to love and to make love by not just having sex, but to connect.