My Mama says I have a face meant to smile.
But my feelings are too heavy.
It's hard when you have a face meant to frown
and a permanent noose around your neck.
And when I try to run,
I feel like I'm always being chased,
persued by the greedy hands of men.
When their beautiful faces
and white lies,
They make it easy to fall
and hard to get back up.
When my father says he loves me,
he loves the virgin daughter
that died a long time ago.
So I will paint a picture and capture it,
so he can remember me when I was good.
Then I remember my boyfriend,
my lover,
and how his eyes resemble a
wild mixture of Autumn and Summer
growing old together.
But later on, down in our story,
he thinks I'm blind.
So he spends his moon-lit nights
carressing the hearts of others.
He takes the stars right out of my hands,
and scatters them in his broken sky.
So he can watch me try to gather them back up.
But when I think of our memories
that smolder at the bottom of my heart,
as the tiny embers flicker and trigger a violent heart beat.
When he speaks,
I can't help but to hang on every word and sylable.
Somtimes I think he is better than me,
but then I remember that he puts his pants on like I do every morning.
So I guess I will let him take me all the way under.
And when he wants to pull me further down, he can.
I won't fight
what my heart can't live without.

By: Brandi Deacon
2011