Tell Me

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“Tell me you don’t love me” she pleaded with tears in her eyes. “Tell me you don’t love me and I’ll leave. You’ll never hear from me again.”

She searched his face, waiting for him to utter the words she knew would break her heart. Waiting to hear the words she needed to hear to move on.  Words that would absolutely destroy her hopes – dreams of building a future together, dreams of children, dreams of a happy life with him.

“Tell me.” She didn’t mean for it to come out as desperate as it did. She wasn’t even sure what she wanted anymore. Did she want the freedom or did she want him? Was she ready to lose him or was all of this worth it? She couldn’t even answer her own questions. Simply put, she just wasn’t sure anymore…

As she looked him in his eyes, she could see that he was struggling. He was struggling to say what she needed to hear. She turned her back to him, and made her way to the door. Ready to accept the unspoken truth – it was done.

She put her right hand on the doorknob and felt a hand in her left hand. “I can’t tell you that.” he said looking at her.  “I can’t tell you I don’t love you because it wouldn’t be true.”

In this moment, she still wasn’t sure. She wasn’t sure if she should stay or go. If she should give up or try again. If everything he said and did was forgivable, if she even wanted to forgive him. But with all of her doubts, one thing remain true – she loved him. So what – they fought, couples fight. Sure, they had things to work on, but so does everyone. The real question is – are these things deal breakers? 

As her mind raced, his mouth scrambled to say everything he needed before she left. ” I love you. I’m sorry. I messed up. I want to be with you. Don’t leave. If I let you walk out the door, I’ll regret it.”

She heard him, heard everything he just said and everything that was told beforehand in a fit of anger.  She heard him, and she thought about it. She looked at him, and saw the regret in his eyes. She saw the man she loved looking down on her. She knew he meant it, knew he was right. If she left, she would regret it too.

Silently, she let him lead her back to the bedroom. While he unbuttoned her jacket, she stood still. When she sat on the bed, he ever-so gently took off her shoes. When he was done, he rocked her tenderly as she sat in his lap and cried.  She looked up and saw the tears that were in his eyes, just waiting to fall. At that moment, there was nothing more to say.  Yet again, love won and logic lost. Yet again, the heart had reasons that reason, did not understand.

 

Being a Woman

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As if being a woman isn’t hard enough,
But to also be black.
The pigment of my skin,
Appall, Shame, and even Disgrace
That is how the shade is represented,
As a new species,
I guess the world is still segmented.

As if being shorter than the rest
Is always the best
Yes I’m little
I’m unable to see without stretching my neck
I’m constantly attempting to rise above others,
Without trying not to become stressed.
How can I not…become a wreck?

As if getting dressed,
Just to impressed, the ‘Men’ that think negative
Be positive, is the phrase that is always given,
But it is never taken.
How can you be positive with our society shaped the way it is?

Personality, heart, and soul
Should be the main things consider
Not the color or the gender
Who’s in control?

Even with a question that never has a response
There is always a solution.
All Women:
Hispanic, Somali, Black, Chinese, Asian, Vietnamese, Caucasian
Or Thick, Tall, Short, Small, Large, Skinned, Unfashionable
Or just dress for the occasion

Imagine living in a world, when woman deserved what we should have had
Power, Respect, Value, and Dignity
Not to be treated, neither as trash nor as waste
Not to be seen crying, because of great depression
Or wanting to escape.

A world that is full of success
A world that has no faults or wrongs
A world that is made for and by women…A world for us all

** I was fourteen years old when I wrote this poem. It’s not the cleanest piece of writing, but it is still relevant, which is sad. **