I Was In My Feels About A Man I Loved

Proposition

If I could do
It all, no consequences,
You would always smile.

My voice would send chills
Down your spine and curl your toes
With sweet memories.

If I could give you
Your heart's desires and still be
happy with us...sigh.

I repeatedly
Tried to figure it all out.
How to defy odds.

It'd be perfect if
We loved in the same way,
But alas, we don't.

I can't finish your
Every thought and notion, but
I do understand.

I'm not as open as
Your wildest ideas,
But I'm devoted.

That counts for something.
I know it's not everything,
But I think maybe...

In a diff'rent world,
I could be enough for you
To want me the same.

When I close my eyes
And begin to dream the dreams,
You're still leading man.

Love, you occupy
My idea of perfection.
My subconscious knows.

Sometimes, I allow
Myself to wonder if you'll
ever see the same.

You have potential,
But don't want to fulfill it,
Together, with me

It wouldn't solve all
Your problems, but it'd soothe
Some of the turmoil.

I can't make for sure
Promises of forever,
But I would still try.

Tomorrow isn't
Guaranteed, but I would set
Every intention.

Surely, not easy,
But that doesn't mean it's not
Worth all that we've got.

What if we're not doomed?
Maybe just challenged. And I
Think we're both entitled.

Take my hand and trust
In the love we've created.
Please, believe in us.

Copyright © 2014 Natasha Guy

New Muse Acquired!

The Gateway to Wonderland

You sit there,
Situated carefully,
On the side
Of a rabbit hole.

Your legs dangle freely
Into the dark abyss
Which swallows the soles
Of your feet.

Your mind fills
With intrigue
About the depth and
Wonders held within.

Be careful, my inquisitive mate.
There is no bottom to catch you.
You will never stop falling.
And I don’t own a catcher’s mitt.

So you balance,
Perched thoughtfully
Upon the edge
Of the rabbit hole.

You contemplate
Whether or not your fears
Are composed of
Justified precautions.

Is your curiosity
Strong enough
To protect you during
Your descent?

We all consider chasing
After the cream colored
Rabbit rumored to live
Among the mystery.

And, you ponder while seated,
Lost in your thoughts,
Upon the rim
Of my rabbit hole.

The unknown held
Within the confines
Of the walls
Tempts you.

The pull is strong,
But you are not yet ready
To throw your reservations
Down the hole ahead of you.

Curious.
Scared.
Turned on.
The Tri-fecta.

You see, I refuse
To lie to you,
Or anyone really,
About anything
Pertaining to my
Dwelling place.

This unique space
That currently lies
Within your reach
Is one with which
I’m quite familiar and,
Of which, I am fond.

All of the colors
You may see
When you choose
The experience
Cannot be explained,
Only witnessed.

The smells and tastes
That hang in equal tandem
Upon your most sensitive
Receptors are often times
Incomparable to your
Previous involvement.

And the sensations
Grip and pull at every inch
Of your submerged
Skin, teasing it, causing
A rising reaction to occur in
Salutation to the aggressors.

I cannot properly explain
What you will or will not hear.
As those who’ve come before
You have heard everything from
Silent, open-mouthed screams to
Growls and purrs of satisfaction.

All of that to say:
Nothing can prepare you,
Not my invitation or my warning.
The adventure begins with a choice.
So tell me, have you settled on
What will your decision be?

Copyright © 2014 Natasha Guy

New Author Alert!

My dear friend Dominque Pollard has released her first book of poetry, Closed Mind: Open Heart...And All That Dangles In Between. You can purchase it here on createspace. Please welcome her into your bookcases as you did when I released my first book a few years ago. She's definitely worth the read! Congrats Ms. Pollard!

She's Gone

RIP Pastor Glenda Bolden

I will always carry you with me.

Saying Goodbye

The words never come easy in the end.
Condolences do little for the grieving souls,
And even less for our dearly departed.
Platitudes given too late to the one who left
Make the mourners smile through tears of loss.
Services linger on longer and longer
Because no one wants to say goodbye.

Maybe it’s just me, but I prefer rainy home goings.
I’d like to think that God cries with us;
Tears of sorrow for us, but tears of joy for Him.
He’s receiving a spirit that we cherished and He missed.
In my family, we tend to celebrate the life,
Striving to remember greatness, ignoring the hollow hole.
Because no one wants to say goodbye

You were a mother to many, whether we had one or not.
As First Lady, you were always elegant and graceful,
When you took your place behind the pulpit,
You always brought The Word, strong and correct.
I will never forget the way your laugh could fill entire rooms.
And all I can think to say is, “See you soon, Love.”
Because no one wants to say goodbye.

Copyright © 2014 Natasha Guy

Guess The Writing Bug Got Me

The Flip Side

Come lay your head on my thigh
And let me stroke your head softly,
Easing your worries from your troubled
Mind and drawing meditative circles
On your scalp with my fingertips.
My thickness provides comfort.

Come rest your head on my breast
And stroke my insides strongly,
Pushing any thoughts from my chaotic
Brain and create pressure point designs
On my skin with your fingertips.
Your thickness provides pleasure.

Come confide in my strengths,
Knowing that they will always be used
As a representation of you, and never
Will they be raised against you
Because a Queen will forever protect
Her King.

Come surround me with your strength.
I’ll never be in fear of it being used
To hurt me, but rather a shelter and refuge,
Always there to guard me from danger
Because My King will forever defend
His Queen.

Copyright © 2014 Natasha Guy

A Couple Recent Ones

Coffee Shop Haiku

Windy city blues.
This isn’t Chicago though.
Yet still, the breeze blows.

Cracks in the sidewalks
Give way to the earth beneath
Fighting to be free.

Plants purposely put
Between cold marble walls to
Introduce nature.

Green leaves reminding
Dark souls that there are reasons
To still keep breathing.

Trapped inside of the
Maddening monotony.
A concrete jungle.

The End

Conversations. Stale
Like week old coffee that’s been
Reheated daily.

I refuse to do
Small talk when we used to share
Real words with meaning.

Forgive me if that
Offends your fragile ego.
I don’t really care.

…not like I did then.
Now, you’re lumped in with the rest.
Connections gone bad.

Blame it on faulty
Wiring or old circuitry;
Either way, it’s dead.

And I’m not into
Necrophilia, and I
Don’t play with myself.

Copyright © 2014 Natasha Guy

Backlogged Poem #3

To The One I Love

Our frustrations seem to mirror each other,
Still reflections of one another despite the distance,
Stemming from extremely different places though.

My frustration comes from confusion and being
Blocked from clarity that I’ve requested time after time.
I’m stuck with questions that plague me without your answers.

You, on the other hand, seem to be pushing to still occupy the
Place I once said was yours, when I thought you understood,
When I thought we were feeling things on a similar level.

You cannot live in the same spot in my heart
When you continually ransack your surroundings.
I’m strong, but not wholly invincible or indestructible.

I bleed.
I cry.
I crumble.

I know that I can recover from a broken heart
And return to a state where I welcome love again.
I know because I was able to open my heart to you.

Eventually, I will be able to shift your picture
From the man I’m in love with, ruler of my heart,
To one of the man I love, a cherished friend.

Unfortunately, I’m still in limbo for now.
But I’m steadily crossing the great divide,
Towing cargo of my feelings and memories with me.

I’ll make it across and feel victorious when I do.
I’m just hoping that you won’t halt my progress
By tugging on my heart strings before I disconnect from you.

I will breathe.
I will survive.
I will love again.

As for now…
I’m still in love you.

Copyright © 2014 Natasha Guy

Backlogged Poem #2

Never Too Far

It’s three am and you can’t sleep.
Why is it that I get a text?
I have too many lingering questions.
How can you still be so ignorant?

Maybe it’s not ignorance as much as…
I don’t know, lack of caring?
Do the pained faces etching new frown lines
Make you think about the tears in your wake?

Check up on me though.
Keep that connection
To my heart.
Just in case.

I’m too busy holding myself together to
Chastise you for using me as a crutch;
Ignoring the wounds you inflict in the
Name of friendship and camaraderie.

It seems so easy for you to move on
From our last shared emotional junction.
You’ve already embarked on another journey,
Leaving me with my half of the map as a souvenir.

Keep checking on me though.
Maintain that thin connection
To my inner sanctum,
Because you never know.

And if I can keep it that way,
You’ll never know again
Just how scarred
I am, because of you.

Copyright © 2014 Natasha Guy

Someone Said Beware

I was on another site and saw someone say to never date a poet or a writer, cuz we're dangerous. I wound up writing the following poetic response:

Should I get a sign that says,
“Beware I am a poet!” and post it?
Should I come with a warning label
That describes the exact inscriptions
I may choose to write upon your heart
Or those I might place within your mind?

Where’s the fun in ruining a surprise?
Take a walk on the wild side with me.
Our journey may end sooner than later
But I assure you that it will invoke
The sweetest of memories mixed with
A cacophony of wonders greater than
You previously conceived possible.

And I guess this is where the warning
Should be placed, like the often ignored
Words on gallons of bleach bottles:
Not for human consumption.
Call poison control if ingested, 'cause…
It takes a specialist to give assistance
After you’ve tasted a poet.

Copyright © 2014 Natasha Guy

Backlogged Poem #1

SLIVERS

There are still parts of me
With your name scribbled on them.
You took them from me with
Promises of protection and care.
Now, I’ve been stripped bare,
Pieces of me missing,
Left by the way side,
Wasting in the scorching sun.

You haven’t returned them,
Even in used condition,
But just discarded them
And all of their meaning too.
You recklessly claimed inches
Of me and forgot to simply
Erase your name on your
Way out of my heart.

The loc you intertwined
With intent and attention
Now hangs as a heavy reminder.
The spot you discovered
And marked with your thumb
Is like an old brand that
Reignites with the fires of desire.
Ones you no longer choose to douse.

I’ve changed,
Acknowledged,
Cried,
Detested,
Caressed,
And exhausted myself
In efforts to regain
The territories you marked.

I’m rebuilding, little by little.
I’m surviving, stronger every day.
Soon, I’ll be whole again.
Free from your forgotten graffiti.

Copyright © 2014 Natasha Guy

Prose Piece

Decided to stretch my limits with this one. Not my typical stuff, and still needs work, but trying to branch out just a bit...

The evening news fizzles like white noise in the background as I immerse myself in the fantasy world of the sci-fi book I’m reading. I tied my hair out of my face, but yours is splayed across my lap. Absentmindedly, I pull my fingers through your locs, massaging your scalp from time to time. This is our nightly ritual. You demand a place made of flesh to rest your head and I need a break from my work. I hate the news and you aren’t fond of fiction; this is our compromise.

“Babe, raise up for me.” I wiggle the thigh beneath your head.

“Where are you going? The news isn’t over.” You don’t move.

“Well, my bladder doesn’t care. While you finish watching the horrors of the world, I’m gonna start my shower.” I slide off the couch as I talk.

“No you won’t.”

Your objection stops me mid-stride.

“Go ahead and use the bathroom, but bring my pillow back.”

I pick up the conversation again from the doorway a few minutes later. “Your pillow, huh? I could have sworn it was connected to my body, sir.” I smirk at you from my place, leaning against the doorjamb.

“Woman, did I not claim you as you claimed me? That damn body is mine as much as mine is yours. Now quit playing and come here so I can get comfortable.

Well damn. I can’t argue with that, even though I want to. So I rebel by lying down in front of you the sofa, instead of propping your head up as before.

“You must think you’re cute.”

“My man tells me I am, “ I counter, snuggling deeper against your body and adding a giggle.

“Nah, your man is wrong.”

I jerk my head toward you, smacking both of us with my hair. “Excuse me?”

“I said—“

“I heard what you said.” A fake pout graces my lips and I playfully nudge you in the ribs with my elbow.

Your hips rise as you rotate me to my back with my face to yours. One of your legs nestles between mine and your top half looms over me seductively. Goose bumps form a trail on my skin after your finger traces along the hem of my shirt thoughtfully.

My previously pursed lips can’t help but twist into a lazy smile and my eyes lower by at least fifty percent. “So my man doesn’t think I’m cute?”

“Nope. You’re absolutely breathtaking. You’re beautiful.”

My laughter interrupts your declarations.

“Hey, look at me.” Your voice takes a serious tone, accompanied by furrowed brows and fingers tipping my chin so that our eyes meet. “Listen to me and listen to me good…well.”

I smile at you correcting your grammar before I can and deliver a soft kiss to your lips. “I’m listening.”

“You are amazingly beautiful. I don’t have all of the words to paint the picture the right way, but know that I mean that with everything inside of me. Both as a wonderful soul and an attractive body, you are to be cherished.”

And with that, tears well in my eyes. Before they can fall and before I can verbally respond, your lips assault mine in a spine tingling, passionate kiss. Your mouth’s pursuit increases from convincing to punishing, revealing your hunger for me.

I answer bite for bite, moan for moan, and thirst for unyielding thirst as we both indulge in each other.

I am yours, you are mine, and we claim one another multiple times, each orgasm planting a flag on pieces of our souls. We not only claim, but tend to and take responsibility for every part we capture. Silent promises to love and protect conquered territories are issued by decree from the only ones who matter: the king and queen in attendance, ordained by the love shared between them.

Copyright © 2014 Natasha Guy

They Say Time Heals

Don't Remember

They ask about you, you know.
"You haven't mentioned him lately..."
"Are you doing okay since...him?"
"Whatever happened to him?"

Then my face tries to follow
Directions from my internal screams to be strong.
My head dips as I take a deep breath,
Blinking rapidly to hold back the flood.

"Oh, forget I said anything,"
Or something similar, is the usual reaction
When the pain I wasn't able to hide well enough
Hurls toward them like a tidal wave.

Forget? What do you think I've been doing?
Forgetting the love that almost consumed me.
Forgetting the look on my face in that one picture.
Forgetting the organ in my chest that still beats painfully.

Oh, forget all of that?
Yeah, okay.
I'm trying,
But none of this is easy.

Copyright © 2014 Natasha Guy

Not Always A Good Day

Suicidal Glances

Learn from the past.
Do it differently.
My heart is so broken,
It won't go back the same way.
Different won't be hard.
Your smile soothes it a bit
Until i realize, it's because
You're looking at her.

It's not in the pictures we took.
It's not in how you talked to me.
It was lost in the words you never said.
The absence is like a chasm
stretching across the emptiness
That you evacuated.

I am so shattered.
And I don't think I can
Ever tell you just how much
Because when I begin to simply
Concentrate in order to define it...

Tears swell
My chest heaves
My breath draws short
And I'm sinking.
The walls close in
The lights dim
My hands shake...
And then I shut it down.

I can't do it.
I'm not strong enough for that.
Before the tormented wail can
Erupt from the depths within
Myself that are too scary for me
To explore on my own,
I have to make it stop.

And so my once obvious look of
Love has become a forced grimace,
A brave face, well mask actually.
One that refuses to crack beneath
Watchful eyes of loving friends
Searching for the drop that will signal
The breaking of the dam they all expect.

It took my torment, pain, and devastation
To give way to the love that rests on your face
And this is the first time I can remember
My phoenix setting herself on fire knowingly.

Copyright © 2014 Natasha Guy

Sigh

Cyclic Attachment

Goodbye has become a common place
Where I lay to rest dreams and desires.
When I add to the collection,
I tend to browse the aisles and smile
At the memories that once haunted me.

I unpack my expectations and lay down burdens.
You never see hopes and fantasies as baggage
Until those you built them on bid adieu.
They're so much heavier when you carry them alone.
But alas, lifted weight is truly a blessing.

Even though you float away from
All you ever thought you wanted,
A lifted, changed perspective
Allows for an enlightened view
Of all the beauty you missed along the way.

Copyright © 2014 Natasha Guy

It Is National Poetry Month After All

BREAKING DOWN

The pieces resulting from broken
Promises that I made to the mirror
Now serve as the bloody sacrifices that
Fuel the fire preventing me from
Committing necrophilia as I struggle to remember
How to love again.

Love me.
Love you.
Love us.
Separately.
Again.

Slowly, like the smoke rising from dancing flames,
Your remnants have intertwined their scents within
My locs, my speech, and even my heart that now has
Trouble with the grueling feat of producing beats so that
I can love again.

Love me.
Love you.
Love us.
Separately.
Again.

The extraction process is long and
Hard like your body was, like my
Resolve to show you love was.
Now I'm deconstructing a foundation meant to survive
Earthquakes and soul shakes because I had a
Chance to love again.

Love me.
Love you.
Love us.
Now separate.
Again.

Copyright © 2014 Natasha Guy

Reflection Haiku: An Ode To Travel

I.
Doubts and fear rising,
Threatening cancellation.
My wavering faith.

II.
Going wrong ways in
Airports before finding your
Smile waiting on me.

III.
Multitude of firsts,
Some things more than expected.
Not always bad though.

IV.
Footsteps headed your
Direction. Where does this path
Lead? The promised land?

V.
Time to move along.
The fat lady's sung her song.
Feelings in the wind.

VI.
Wheels up and eyelids
Down. I don't see til on the
Ground. Feet still floating.

VII.
Days pass faithfully.
Pics remind of yesterday.
Seems like just a dream.

VIII.
Washing away scents
Remembered by locs of hair.
Memories draining.

Copyright © 2014 Natasha Guy

First 2014 Poem

The One

You were the one
Who made me laugh
With a two word voicemail.

You are the one
Asking all the wrong questions
At exactly the right times.

You'll always be the one
Who provided the comfiest place
In a quiet room.

For now, you are that one.
Who knows if you are my one.
That story hasn't even begun.

I was the one
Who tried to find the gift
You didn't know you wanted.

I am the one
Poking and prodding until
I find your smile's hiding place.

I'll always be the one
Who helped you discover
How Jack fell down the hill.

He and she are not "they".
You and I are not "we" today.
But always friends, come what may.

Copyright © 2014 Natasha Guy