My life is no longer my own. It hasn’t been for sometime now…but this is the first time that I am completely happy and feel at home. This is the first time in a long time, that I looked a man in his eyes and said, “my life is no longer my own.”
My love is no longer my hearts’. It is not confined to the boundaries my body’s wall forms. It is no longer confined to my minds scorn. I looked a man in his eyes, tears filling mine, and uttered, “my love is no longer my hearts’.”
My body is no longer the breast-buddy of coldness. It does not feel free in the sheets’ cold embrace. Freedom has a new face. As does coldness, it looks…it feels..it smells…like death. I looked a man in his eyes, pressed my body against his, listened to his heart beat, as his body heat..engulfed me..and I exhaled..”my body is no longer cold.”
My spirit rejoices at the act of my letting go. To truly invite a man, this man, into my life, I had to turn from aspects of myself. Love cant survive in unfit conditions. Strength can yes…but love…no. Maybe the sight of my strength, indicated the possibility of love being harvested. In my mind, love was undoubtly the farthest…goal worth obtaining…now I bask in its prescence..dive head first into it’s forest. And during the fall from the sky to it’s branches..and inevitably the ground, this man looked me in my eyes, repeated all I had said to him, thanked me for trusting him…and activated his parachute. He promised that when our feet were to hit the ground it would be on our terms. This man. His eyes. Our love….I don’t look back and I never want to return.
My life is no longer my own.
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