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A November Writing Challenge

You, Me, Us, We

As soon as I heard “inspiration” I knew it had to be about you,
But then something incredible happened; something I never imagined;
I suddenly realized that it has stopped being about you.
It’s no longer about you, but I'm not sure when it even stopped.

Now, I’m finally allowing myself to let it be about me.
At last, I am the main character in my own play.
Hell, I’m barely looking to see if you’re in the audience these days.
Is your seat vacant? Where was the seat? I’m not even paying attention anymore.

This is monumental for me, because you’ve been my everything for so long,
And now, it’s me. It’s the mirror that inspires me. It’s the mirror that says I can.
I now look within and remind myself of all I’ve already accomplished…
And all without you, you’ve been in my corner, but you’ve not been HERE.

I am having the time of my life just learning to live on my own again.
I’m regaining the strength I once had to do everything I wanted.
I don’t check with myself to see IF I can do it; I just schedule a time to succeed.
I don’t echo your plan for me back to you. I inform you of my decisions. It’s different.

I was a caterpillar for so long and you were my protective cocoon.
I almost died inside the hard shell you built around me to keep me safe from the world.
You did it for my own good while I struggled against you and pushed
And, for a time, I left you, hollow, discarded, and broken, waving in the wind.

I stretched out my wings without thinking about the carnage though.
I found the sunniest spot and I struggled and pushed and persevered.
Had you not held me so tight, I would have never wanted to escape the confines
Of you. Warm, suffocating, holding me securely and killing me all at once.

Leaving you was the beginning of my whole new world, my rebirth so to speak.
It was the hardest thing I’ve had to do that I did by my choice alone.
Leaving your protection, your safety, your arms, your heart…you.
And the way I miss all of that, the severity with which I miss it, is soul snatching.

My body reacts without my permission when I think about where I came from.
My eyes swell with tears that spring from various fountains within me: pride, pain, joy.
My chest heaves up and down as if my heart is threatening to find you without me.
My muscles tense and harden just wishing they could feel your hands on my skin again.

And my thoughts always refocus on one thing: I had to be strong for the both of us.
I did it for us. That thing you attempted, but could never seem to commit to just for you.
I couldn’t let myself die there, with you surrounding me for my own “good”, any more than
I wanted to kill you by letting you try to build a house in which neither of us would flourish.

When I look back on all of it. All of the love I unfairly demanded from you, but wouldn’t accept;
All of the love I threw at you, that I unknowingly smothered you with, that you reluctantly resisted;
All of the ways we pushed and pulled each other, trying to create enough distance for growth;
All of the passion that was always just beneath the surface of every exhausting interaction…

Damn it, my passion is still you, but it’s different now. You are a want and not a need.
Of course I can grow, thrive, survive, and even enjoy life without you by my side.
And I guess this piece is still somewhat about you, but it’s even more about me, because
At this moment, you are only in it because I choose to let you share my gaze.

Copyright © 2015 Natasha Guy

Just A New Post

But It Can’t

Our forever has come and I'm too tired to even say goodbye,
So I'm waving to the wind, and hopefully it will reach you
With the understanding that I’ve loved you for you,
And you never bothered to discover who I really am.

We both know that I am solid,
But you fail to realize I'm also complete.
On my own, without you, I’ve managed to
Fill in my emptied nooks and crannies.

While I want to be the full piece that fits beside,
You're so used to being an empty woman’s center
That with my readjustment and growth,
You’re ready to let me go.

Perfection in your eyes is how you solve my problems
But for me, it's realizing you don't need a solution, just a complement.
Maybe that's the issue, you see all the ways I still need to be fixed
And I just want to add to you, because you're perfect in your existence.

And that's what I'd say to you if my heart could ever actually let go.

Copyright © 2015 Natasha Guy

Birthday Week Revelation

Rooted

Usually, when we have the more serious talks,
We don't really face one another.
It's like it takes all of the energy we possess
Just to put it all out there, to bear everything,
Like the effort to hold a gaze is too great.

So this time, instead of lying next to you,
Instead of snuggling into your arms,
Instead of hiding from love with my back turned,
I will greet it, honor it, face to face.
I'll show it that I deserve it this time.

So I'll perch atop your hips, my
Legs straddling your core and my
Hands resting on your chest while
I direct my eyes to meet yours, not in
A challenge, but in reverence of the following truths:

I make decisions daily to love you.
Whether you label it or not, I choose
To be where I know I belong: by your side.
As much as I've changed, my heart has
Remained adamant that you are its home.

Therefore I no longer fight; I surrender
And accept that it knows its place in this world.
I knew it all along, but wouldn't admit that
It only took vacations and never strayed...
Stayed away too long before being home sick for you.

And my voice may tremble and my hands may
Shake as I continue to explain how it
All fits together in my head. And it
May get a little heavier than you like,
But I promise not to leave all of it on you.

I'll simply leave a token of my love
Because it's what I've always tried to do.
It's important to me that you know and
Hear it...not just know because you know
Who I am growing to be, but I need to be able to say it.

The Japanese proverb says fall seven and rise eight,
So maybe we'll get it right this time and maybe not.
Some things I do know though: My place is with
You. My heart is with you. It's a choice I make
Continually, day after day, because even if I knew
The world was ending tomorrow,

I'd still plant my apple tree with you today.


Copyright © 2015 Natasha Guy

More National Poetry Month Pieces

Lock & Key

Did I make a mistake in loving you?
They say we learn from our mistakes
But every day, this is one I repeat.
I choose you over and over...you.

You are the key to so much
My heart, my ambition, myself.
A lock without a key is forever
Either opened or closed...out of order.

They key has the right combination
Of nooks and crannies to change
The lock as the need dictates.
Open to me. Secure my treasures.

You are the only one who's been
Able to slide into my chamber
And fit comfortably while still
Pushing and pulling. Changing me.

While my outside remained quite
Stagnant, you toyed with my
Inner workings, conforming them to
Your intricate design and rigidity.

I need you, want you, to open me
Up and twist my insides. Please?



Untitled

It kills me
(Laughably)
To see you beg
For the attention
You once threw
Away.
I hope you live
And learn to
Cherish what you have
When you have it;
Not waiting to see
That your grass
Used to be greener
Once you see it in
A different light
That also illuminates
The “Keep Off The
Grass” sign
Erected in your
“Honor”.


Copyright © 2015 Natasha Guy

From My National Poetry Month Writings

You, I, We

Starting anew

Away from you
Yet and still
You are with me.

Never thought I'd do this
Without your comforting kiss
Yet and still
I am here.

They say distance makes
The heart feel quakes
Yet and still
We are solid.

When I was asked today
If I'd ever fall in love again...
Daily. With you.

Copyright © 2015 Natasha Guy

Insomniac Poetry

The Truth of The Matter

If I was honest,
I couldn't count how many times
Within a day you crossed my mind,
Because the thought of you is like
A hamster on red bull
With a battery pack on its back      
On a motorized Wheel...wings and all.

If I was honest,
You'd know my love for you
Has only grown and never waivered
Despite my unexplained need to
Diminish its ever expanding size
In efforts to not smother you
Like a plastic bag over your head.

If I was honest
Every time you touched me, I'd
Float away on the sheer strength
Of the butterflies that automatically
Take flight within my core
When your body casually brushes
Against mine in innocent connections.


If I were honest
About why I shy away from the simple
Contact more than I embrace it,
You'd probably sigh and mutter,
"This again? Really?" Before rolling
Your eyes and shaking your head.

If I were honest,
You would know how much you still
Inspire me to broaden my horizons
And chase my dreams with sincerity
While watching you grow on your own
And become more of the man you've
Always desired to be.

If I were honest...
Let's be honest...
I'm still in love with you.

Copyright © 2015 Natasha Guy

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