Thursday, February 7, 2013

Jezebel, You are No Whore.


I know all of you have a friend like this. She changes men, like underwear, and always starts out with the phrase "he's different." I'm at a loss for words, listening for the pieces I will eventually have to help put back together.

He took me out on a really expensive date.
He's got the greatest job.
He pulled out all the stops.
I think…I think…he loves me.

It's difficult to hide my cringe, when she reveals that she gave it up on the first night. It's incredulous; the places that she's been dropped off or asked to come to. It's even more difficult to hide my eye rolling when he no longer answers her calls.

I know some of you are convinced. You're smirking at the computer, sure that my friend is an absolute ho. But she's not. She's in love with love, obsessed with it actually.

Sometimes there isn't even sex involved. However there's always an exchange. Something that she slung her heart into, hoping the receiver would support it wholly. Sometimes it's an ear. Other instances it's her words. Most times it's her time.

I've tried to convince her, that's she's losing herself. Every time she lends a portion of her humanity to another human being, her glow seems to diminish just a bit more.

& sincerely, honestly, and whole heartedly, I’m effing sick if it…

So here goes…

We are not tumbleweeds, despite the winds of patriarchy. Just because we mature and were once a portion of something youthful and green, doesn’t mean we’re destined to dry and shrivel, bouncing from desert to desert.

I too had to find my oasis and even though I still have to remind him that our romance needs igniting, every now and then, I’ve never had to prompt him that I am worthy of love.

Oasis (/ōˈāsis): A fertile spot in a desert where water is found.
Alternate Definition: A pleasant or peaceful area or period in the midst of a difficult, troubled, or hectic place or situation.

& baby…you’re hectic. Fetal, futile, and defeated; I’ve watched you crawl into that space you call a heart, too many times, and die.

I once needed reviving.

I want to paint daisies on your face.//
Shower you with kisses, so your likeness for me will grow.//

This was for Carlo, militant and brave in uniform, but a coward on civilian land. When his promises were broken and his eyes afraid to meet my own, we said goodbye. Ever meet a man who’s heroic enough to face the enemy, but too terrified to fight his own demons? I have. When the naval ships’ clash, on waves, is all he can hear, and all is lonely and without, he calls. I never answer.

You speak thunder, raindrops falling from the tip of your tongue,//
clouds in your daydreams.//
There is a storm on your lips and only I can hear it.//

This? For Nevin. Someone I would’ve weathered any typhoon for, but decided that society’s depiction of beauty was more his forte. Unfortunately, I couldn’t accept heartbreak through text message. My number was suddenly apparent after she left him, for another man, and took their son.

I wished you between a diary page and pen.//
Played hide and seek with your fruition, in those fools who tried to imitate you.//

Him? The brother whom the words once rang true for? He’s gone. Indefinitely. A car crash, result of a drag race gone wrong. I never had the chance to send those choruses; in fact the last words I uttered to him were “go to hell.”

I don’t regret any of it. They were building blocks to understanding what was right and wrong within love or the instances that resembled it.

But you are beyond building. In fact, your castle is so high that I haven’t been able to reach you. This is the reason for this post.

Revivals do not come in the form of open mouths and flowers. They are already within you. You are everything you need.

Once I realized this, I was alive. I rose with the sun and set out for purpose, my intentions bereaved of the opposite sex. I was more than a journal filled with words for men who didn’t deserve them.

& in the midst…
of finding,
learning,
and trusting…

My oasis arrived, as will yours.

Don’t become a drought, praying for rain. Cascade on yourself and soak in the fact that loving ones self is bigger and better than any adoration waiting for you, on the outside.

Please.



6 comments:

Denise Michele said...

and you always pick the most amazing art

Brandon Burke said...

Great post! This post not only is a great read for females but as a man I can relate to falling in love with the idea of ideal perfection in another person. I love the lyrical references in this piece and the imagery it provokes. Great job Riv.

Christa said...

Wow... I'm not a writer so I really don't know how to put into words the things that your writing does for me. This was great and your art is always on point.

Jessica Jupiter said...

"Ever meet a man who’s heroic enough to face the enemy, but too terrified to fight his own demons? " YES! Great piece, Riva.

Stephanie Valentine said...

"I was more than a journal filled with words for men who didn’t deserve them."

Sometimes, I don't wanna relate so well. Tuh. Great read and message nonetheless.

Rio C. said...

I needed this. So much. Kinda teared up at the end. All of your words encompass everything I've been feeling. Thanks Riv & bravo.