An Open Letter to Love: A Poem


Dear love, my skin has replaced itself nearly
300 times since we first met. And in that same time, my body has regenerated
over 200 new livers. Every quarter, I get new bones, and every
two months, I get a new brain, but the memories of you somehow remain. Why are you so damned in staying here? Why are we not granted untainted hearts? No matter how many bits and pieces of us replace
themselves, and no matter how many new people we become, we are still reminded by your inevitable
existence. Will you show me your cuts and scrapes? I know your hands and arms are full of them
because I alone have handed my heart over to you at least half a dozen times and each fucking time, you leave me in shards. I mean, don’t get me wrong; I know you’ve done this for millions of years, But Dearest love, do your phalanges grow weary of snapping hearts in half? Are your knees weak from standing in the quicksand
of tears you caused? Ain’t your back tired? When will that bag of broken people ever be
too heavy for you? Is the answer really “never”? The first time I cut my skin open, I swore
love would pour herself out because my flesh was no longer secure enough to hold her in. But she clung to my insides and welded herself
into my bone marrow. Does it feel good? To slit us open with the blades of your being? Who told you you could stand in immunity and
not pay for the mayhem you bring? God of chaos, shaker of earths, maker of crazy. “Love”. … your name left the mouth of a man who
promised me the world. And today I don’t even know what part of
it he’s standing on right now. Your name left the mouth of a man who told
me I was beautiful and I can’t seem to find it in the mirror on my best days. And sometimes when you leave, you make death
sound good in the best ways. Just like you, I think the devil was destined
for greatness at one point. But I’ve learned this same lesson one too
many times and at this point, I’m only sane by luck. It’s kind of funny that I played blind to
the monster that you are when the sun barely makes me squint anymore. But then again, I’ve never met a monster
I couldn’t love. I spoke to the souls you left behind on your
never-ending quest of starring in our day dreams. We came to a consensus. You are the weepening of willows—the clipper
of wings. And none of us remembers what it felt like
to be whole or at peace anymore. Once upon a time, I dreamt of luxuries just like you. But now? You are full of Valentines without principle,
Tongue without meaning. Lust without adoration. What became of you? You were once of kisses down the spine, once
of forehead pecks, once of roses down and between breasts. But you snicker in the corner while we
fall apart like the coward that you are. Must you always leave us half of who we once were? Dear love, my skin has replaced itself nearly
300 times since we first met. And in that same time, my body has regenerated
over 200 new livers. Every quarter, I get new bones, and every
two months, I get a new brain, but the memories of you will always remain.

5 thoughts on “An Open Letter to Love: A Poem

  1. I loveeee this! I hope we are getting a poetry book next because I love your work & your ability to story tell

  2. I love your storytelling… you're an artist. I came to your channel after that sugar daddy video and I stayed because I actually like you. You're not just a pretty "girl" and as a fat girl myself, I'm glad to see a fellow fat black woman whose social media presence is more than just about being BBW… you show character and i love it
    I am a fan who has added your book on my "to read" list

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