Art Blog (Pt.2)

A poetry book by Eryn James

 Judgment

 

There’s no gorgeousness in guts,

No elegance in intestines,

No loveliness in lungs,

I'm ugly,

This is not what I look like

I wear these rags called skin so you people can't judge what matters,

Although you say you don't,

I feel your judgment unpleasantly trickle down my spin,

I feel those eyes like broken glass piercing my bones,

Don't judge what matters,

Judge this body,

This face,

These limbs,

These cloths

But my insides are delicate,

One quick tongue can cause earthquakes in my ribcage, 

My bones have become brittle,

I used to give away my organs like sunshine,

To be used as homes for the egos of boys who only knew how to love painfully,

I used to suffer so that I could feel necessary,

So much hate and misery has tumbled down my insides,

My heart now made a jigsaw puzzle,

My lungs smoky from the disaster of my pride being ripped from the walls of my esophagus,

I've been broken,

To be reassembled by duct tape and plaster,

Explaining why I can only love in pieces,

Elucidating on why I’ve decided to not further occupy my bones,

Some days I feel like if I love,

My whole body will shatter into insignificant shards of a faceless woman.

 

Tell Him

 

If I can have just a moment of your time,

I'd like to ask you of a favor,

See there's this boy,

Who deserves a lot more than he's bargaining for,

And I think I can help him, 

Could you just tell him?

There is no need for him to hide his feelings from me,

He doesn't have to shackle his emotions in the chambers of his heart,

No need to stand in the shadows,

I promise to take good care of him,

I promise to make bad memories fade,

There's love here,

There's honesty,

And trust here,

I don't want him to be scared,

Tell him not to be afraid to be vulnerable with me,

Tell him to shed his skin and become flesh with me,

I swear I wont steal from him,

I wont take his heart and leave his cavities bare,

Tell him I'm not like those blood seeking creators he once called girlfriends,

Having no hearts of their own,

They stole bits of his,

Instead,

I will give him everything I have, 

The last breathe in the basement of my lungs if he needs it,

And ask for nothing in return,

Even though he feels unworthy of sincere affection,

I will lace my love around his neck like diamonds,

He deserves me,

Tell him that he deserves me,

He deserves salvation,

I will be his salvation,  

Tell him just because his heart has been crushed,

Doesn't mean that I can’t be amazed at how beautiful broken can be,

Everyone has their own understanding of an abstract being,

To me,

He fell apart gorgeously, 

Tell him I adore his brokenness,

I know he wasn't built to be perfect,

But he's amazing just the way he is,

A man with such a beautiful,

Honest soul,

Little patches of impurity,

But he's human,

And I'm a little upset that he thinks he's found his backbone in wrinkled bed sheets wreaking of a cacophony of forgettable one-night stands and girls perfumes,

Tell him I'm unique,

I promised I'd be waiting,

And I am a woman of my word,

I hope this truth descends onto his ears,

But if it doesn't,

Promise me you'll tell him.

 

She, Moon

 

Dark,

Shadows gone,

Cloaking all,

She,

Be Guidance,            

Be Blackness,

Be Scary,

Be Nice,

Her skin,

Blankets all,

Stands guard before man,

She be tough,

She be rough,

But smooth on eyes,

She is moon,

She always there but always away,

I neglect her,

Eclipse her,

Not there but not invisible,

I will wait,

Catch up with her on her next cycle,

When her insecurities can’t stand between eyes and she,

When daylight doesn't scare her away.

 

I Was Born

 

I was born of Philly,

Of the neighborhood homeless man,

Of philosophy,

Of never sprouted roses afraid to bloom in spring,

Of soul food,

Of "down south" in my kitchen,

Of my brothers recording freestyles on cell phones aspiring to be the hottest thing out of Philly 

Of fear,

Of broken homes and broken family but family none the less,

I was born of hatred,

Of soft screams in distant bedrooms,

Of shushing,

Of secrets stowed under my breasts,

Of breaths,

Of strength

Of will power

Of crisis

I was born of G Clefs and music notes

Of pictures and cd covers

Of portraits

Of tattoo scriptures at 14

Born of tears and memories

Born of sorrow

Of joy

Born of best friends and betrayal

Of summer time and newness

Of leading and leaders

Of the dry tape that was supposed to be strong enough to hold a mother-daughter bond in place

Of the cement that never set to hold a childhood together

Of sisters and brothers

Of porches on sticky summer nights

Of street lights

Of pity-pat card games for quarters

Of poverty

Of my siblings distant dads

Of my father

Of cartoons and fairy tales

Of reality

Of the gap between now and forever.

Of never ending arguments with big sisters

I was born of the future and impact the past has shed on it,

I was born of creations,

 

Dear Dad,

Dear Dad,

Somethings been telling me to write you a poem lately.

I’ve been running from my testimony on the person you are for me ever since puberty.

Maybe it’s because some days I don’t remember why I love you so you much,

Maybe it’s because all the reasons your so important to me have been stifled underneath my teenage years,

But something is telling me it’s time,

Dad I know you are no hero,

Your simply a man with enough regrets and mistakes to fill a grave yard,

I understand that you never meant to hurt me my sisters or my mom,

And that you just realized that life was too short to sit in one place for a long time,

But we wanted to live too,

And I’ll be honest,

When I was younger,

And stricken with the fear of my friends finding out that you didn’t have the super man complex that I allowed my imagination to design you with,

I tried to shovel enough miles in the middle of our relationship so that I wouldn’t have to face the truth,

But now,

I’m growing up and learning that despite other peoples judgement of you

We have an unbreakable camaraderie and kinship that other people might not comprehend, 

It’s funny how you never told me what type of man I should look to marry,

And I just thought that I’d want him to be just like you,

But I didn’t fully understand who you were,

But then,

Someone told me that when they looked at you they saw the definition of a real man,

They said the way you carry yourself is the way only a man can,

With your Adonis like build and  Zeus like mentality,

I want my husband to exist like you,

But something told me that if i said that to you,

You’d disagree and tell me how hard your life is, 

I know that life is hard dad,

And there’s not a day that goes by that i don’t think about how much pain you have to dwell in,

I know that the pain I have to encounter to write a poem will never equate to the agony of post dialysis treatments,

But I don’t know why Allah choose you to carry this sickness,

That some days forces you to feel like tomorrow isn’t even worth the trip,

But on days when your rationality skills are lacking I am willing to give up my sanity to deliver you salvation,

Because I have no idea what kind of cataclysmic behavior I will display when your gone,

I owe you,

And their isn’t any amount pens in this world that I could milk the ink out of to repay you,

I know what you sacrificed for me dad,