I cried today. My heart crept on the page. This is what I have to say. The voices in my spirit told me everything would be ok, yet my mind is disappointing what I really need to say.
I cried so hard that tears bruised my heart. The internal solitude I have is withering inside. I’m still alive but the black and blue stains of pains against the muscles, tissues, and fat that insulate the membrane’s leave pain. I kept hurt in lock and key in the memories I tried to erase.
I can do all things through Christ, yet my heart, body, soul and mind seem to be occupying a different space. The tears I cry have never fallen from my eyes. You won’t see the sensitive me I confide.
Battering my insides.
The outside looks a pristine mahogany. A man who figured out how to stand out from the pride.
Yet my heartfelt thoughts of how to get through, how to reach me, reach you. Everyone I see come across the space that’s paced by clouds that make heart shapes. Great escapes that allow people to catch a break from their mistakes become my life’s work. That explains how I save face. I replace your fate with my mistake and rebuild the forgiveness.
Take a moment and find solitude in my intimate testimonial space.
I’ll cry everyday if it helps me erode the negativity of hate. I want to be the best man I can be, please don’t let me lose my place.
My mahogany dream is to be the man everyone tells me they see.
It’s not about what they see. To be totally honest some days I’m afraid that being “I” is far-fetched from what people need from me.
Am I living to the standards of others realities, or sticking to my guns and shooting down the fallacies that strangle my reality and dreams?
A man torn between a mahogany brown and an ebony dream.