ShotsFired: Everyone Ducks Except Love.

I can’t make you love me

If you don’t

You can’t make your heart feel

Something it won’t………………..

So truth….it doesn’t matter what kind of beautiful black and proud woman I proclaim to be….it doesn’t matter how awesome of a writer I may be or how great my show’s turn out was…..it doesn’t matter how good I cook in the kitchen, and I do cook goooooood……but that doesn’t matter…..the size of my bedroom, the amount of shoes in my closet room or the thickness of my thighs and how sexy they might look in a summer dress does not matter….

When its all said and done

I can’t make you love me if you don’t. 

I can’t force feed myself to turn interesting in your eyes, I can’t make the clock speed up to a possibility….all I can do is accept reality and figure out a way to  deal with it.  Reciprocity has alluded me most of my life in many different situations.  Its not secret that I have a mild obsession with love and obtaining and holding onto a feeling that is almost overpowering but in a healthy way….but i can’t share my mind or my heart with someone who does not want it…..

And even if he does

I can’t make that be ENOUGH for me…..

Ain’t I so much better than a tape dispenser……a faux mechanical flower in a breakable flower pot that doesn’t even come with the batteries so I can see how it works ???? Ain’t I better than love that isn’t really there ???? Course-ran love ??? Haven’t  I finally, after all of this time, bloomed into a least somewhat of the woman that I want to be and that is just enough, if not more, for the perfect imperfect opposite to my cold bed ???  Surely I jest…….

But I can’t make that be.

In one of my new poems, I wrote about loneliness and how my biggest problem with it is that I can’t make it go away at my beckoning call……I can’t just twitch my bewitch nose and watch Prince Michael or Tall Larry or Thick Anthony come barreling thru the door with an arm full of hugs and a fistful of kisses……that is the problem with being lonely….its not that I don’t like to be alone…I love it…..but it’s the fact that sharing space with someone who makes me feel more alone than I would be if I really were [alone], makes loneliness feel like a car accident …..of which the car is about to blow

And I’m stuck behind the wheel

Legs immobile, door locked and waiting ….

Just waiting on the end to happen.

I can’t make you love me……

I can only be me, do me and see me for what I am worth….and if I know anything about any ounce of my worth, then I know I am worth more than a Walgreen’s thought….

I don’t have a broken heart

I have a numb heart

My ex, who somehow still manages to keep up with my number (thanks mommy) called from Jail to apologize FINALLY, for all the things that happened…..we were both guilty of a lot of shit….in a perfect world, I would have apologized to him too for my part…..look here, I used to threw them bows, do you hear me ???? I mean ,I would let off an eye shot with the right push of the wrong button, I didn’t have no shame……

Until the fight was over…..and the reality of how I looked and/or felt set in.

But I digress…..the least of our worries were physical fighting….

Or maybe some of it I just don’t even remember….when I read the journal from that era, I am greeted with shit I must have put in my repressed memory file… *shrug *  

But he apologized…..for the first time….its been almost ten years ago…..a tumultuous four years of my life that ended with a broken woman who had NO IDEA who the hell she was…..she wasn’t Butter no more…..and hadn’t really nurtured Kendria……nsaychable was still forming outside for the world to see, but imagine the lost individual inside of me…i accepted his apology because i had forgiven him years ago....his karma is whooping that ass right now and there is nothing i could say, do or wish that would be colder revenge, although i'm not vengeful and i actually feel sorry for him.…want to know something honest??? The  first dude I dated after that ex,..i remember he wouldn’t answer the phone one day……

And then the next

And then I started leaving messages…..and couldn’t stop….i went from hurt to angry to hurt to angry….this little fucktard was barely the same height as me and had the audacity to act like he was the shit…..and I was too vulnerable to think otherwise…..i begged him to just call me back over his voicemail…..you know what he did ???? 

He let a mutual friend, who I had known much longer than him ( I think they were cousins or some silly shit….small indy town shit) listen to all of those messages……all of my business, my vulnerabilities out there for what felt like the world to listen to….me begging ???? A short fucktard of a nigga ?????   Kiss and tell bitch ass shit is what it was but the embarrassment set me straight and I realized I was setting a bad example for my reflection, so that relationshit ended. 

You can’t make someone see the beautiful you…..the internal light that you hold or the torch that you carry means little if reciprocity is something that cannot be reached…..sometimes the common denominator is too damned divisible and suddenly the numbers become different

Or there is some hanger on, clinging to the cliff of your fraction yet somehow considering itself a whole number…..sometimes…..

It just aint meant to be…..

And I can’t make you love me, if indeed you don’t.

Aint I better than a tape dispenser…..???

Aint I better than some sticky shit that depending on what you are trying to bond together, may or may not do the job correctly???? Scotch tape ????

Aint I better than Scotch ??? Couldn’t I at least have the strength of Duct Tape ??? LOL

Shit.

I can’t make you see me

I can’t make you be the poem in my eyes or to receive all that is me…..and I am by far no one’s perfection princess but oh yeah, I am so much more and better than what I have been and what I used to be…..and as the world around me moves ….

In rapid, constant motion…..

It becomes more and more clear to me that sticking around for the wrapping to loosen because the tape is too thin, is just not what I was meant for. 

Experiencing a new crush will do that to you…
you will either get crushed 
or 
crush a lot together…..

But for me, in this case, just the simple reminder of what it feels like to be smitten with someone, even if only briefly and un-acted upon,  is a smooth groove remembrance of how fun and flirtatiously aware that can make you.....its a fun thing....i'll take an unanswered flirt over a lifelong confusing pattern of back back, forth and back anyday!

aint i better than a ten dollar dispenser ??? 
yeah...i am....
and no matter how high the heel,

If what keeps us together

Is only Scotch tape

Then we are bound to drizzown.  LMAO! I had to say that.

Nope…I can’t make you love me….i can’t even make you be interested in me…..but I can make myself disappear from your peripheral views…..and I can easily become a memory…..and if history shows me correctly, there will likely come a time where one realizes the mistakes made on their part and wonders if the puzzle is still sitting on the table, waiting for them to come put the appropriate pieces in the right places…..but here at this table of fractions, whole numbers and mutual possibilities,

There is no puzzle…..

There is only rhythm

The rhythm is the bass

And the bass is the treble

And I aint got time for nothing or no one that doesn’t make me want to bob my head. #ShotsFired #DoubleEnten

Now….i need a feel up on pump 2. ;)

jY.