Latest Posts by nikrichard - Page 2
I have an elastic heart. My heart stretches to let love in, and does so pretty easily. My heart has no walls, and no locks - it enjoys being full. But once that love is gone, or you're gone, my heart bounces back like a rubber band. There is never any empty space. That space you once occupied is no longer there, my heart will still be just as full, only a little smaller, a little tighter - there are no voids in my heart. Only love. But just like a rubber band my heart can be stretched again. You may have to try a little harder next time. You may have to wiggle your way in.
If 2015 taught me anything, it is that everything is fleeting. Even the recurring moments that we come to expect are a bunch of temporary events strung together over the course of a lifetime - If you're in a bad situation, don't worry it'll change. If you're in a good situation, don't worry it'll change. #newyearsameme
I'm always here for the people I hurt.
Every time I see my Grandmaw she asks me why I never come around. I tell her I’ve been busy doing things, like missing you, and leaving town.
Yet, you make me feel guilty whenever I ask for your company; I’m too needy, get too attached, you can’t be all up under me. And I told my Grandmaw what you said, that I should spend more time alone, get to know me, find myself, do a few things on my own.
Now, her memory ain’t the best, but she remembers that she never liked you much. Said that you were the needy one, so out of line and out of touch.
She told me that she missed me, but I’ve been going about it wrong. Grandmaw said we should treat love as a visitor and never as a home.
Lovers, Family, Friends + Strangers
We say goodbye, but no one ever leaves us. They die on the outside, but still live within. Once we love them we become them, and all the people we’ve been with become all the people we’ve been, and all the people we’ve been become all the people we are. I know it’s hard to forget about them without losing a part of ourselves with it all. Can I love you and love all the other people you’ve loved? I wouldn’t know where to begin, but I’ve survived hurricanes much worse I’m sure I could weather again. It’s difficult to let go of old people we were when they’re the reasons why we are the crowd we’ve become, but I’ll try to calm the mob in you while adding to your parade, still careful to not let everyone you are come undone.
I'm not afraid. All of this is new and uncertain. Fear comes from familiarity - the expectation of what you're about to lose, the anticipation that all those beast you tamed will one day turn on you. I used to be afraid that I would work my whole life for my dreams only to realize that I didn't really want them once they came true, but I don't have the privilege of fear anymore. I no longer use my superpowers to peer into the future because that tends to ruin things. Anything that happens from now is unplanned and off script.
You’ll Know This Is About You
I have been a different person with different people. I sometimes become who they want me to be, or I’ll retreat when I feel like they expect too much. I’m the strong, silent type who talks a lot, and falls in love too quick, and breaks hearts too often, and is always there when I’m needed, and never answers the phone when it rings, and has a heart of gold, and a heart of coal, and is too selfish to ever consider anyone else, and will give away the very last of his things…
at least thats whats they say, and they would all be telling the truth.
I’m looking forward to discovering who I‘m going to become with you,
who will you turn me into?
What is freedom and do I really want it? Freedom makes me uneasy. The idea of having infinite possibilities makes me anxious and lazy, because I feel like “free” can always be put off until tomorrow, or after I take my nap. Endlessness is daunting and can trick you into thinking that you have way more time than you actually do. I’m not sure if I completely trust myself with the autonomy over my decisions, because I change my mind often. I’m indecisive. I’m a Gemini. By nature we are lovers and fighters. What is freedom’s desire? Who is freedom’s enemy? I think the only freedom we seek is the freedom to choose what we want to be a slave to; love, time, money, art, wanderlust. I have been a slave to all of those things and for some reason have a desire to crawl back to them every time they let me go.
“Don’t you write no poems about me”
“Boy, don’t you write no poems about me! I’m not trying to wake up tomorrow and read me on your timeline, or see some words written on your wall about how you trying to fall in and out of love with me, I don’t wanna hear all that. Matterfact, you probably write a poem for everybody, huh? I bet they all feel like the one once you get to talking like you do, I know you. Well, you can save all that with me. You need to be asleep anyway, don’t be over there trying to come up with something poetic to put up on your tumblr about us in the morning.”
THE WATER IS RISING
The winds are picking up and people picking their things.... Here we go again but those who stay are not ready to go wherever her winds blow them I know you cant say nobody told them but you can say nobody showed them the way
It figures.... the rich in this city don’t give a damn about thousands of poor niggas
The winds are picking up but for most there's nowhere to go just get on their knees and hope they don't wind up wherever the winds blow
Left deserted without help with the only comforting words of "you have been warned" but the poor in this city are strong we should make it out of whoever decides to weather the storm
we should be safe now we can see the sky now we can go outside now that the winds have died down... but the waters are rising
and the streets begin to overflow those who find a way out still have nowhere to go
There is a thin line between determination and desperation in times of despair it’s almost as if the waters are purging us but who is to decide whose soul will be spared?
I SHOULD BE THE ONE TO SAVE MY PEOPLE I SHOULD HAVE PLAYED MY PART! I KNEW I SHOULD HAVE LISTENED WHEN GOD TOLD ME TO BUILD THAT ARC but i didn't now i know for certain its hopeless I watch my people flee in a mass exodus with no sign of Moses WHO WILL SPLIT THE SEA? WHO WILL DECIDE WHO WILL BE CHOSEN? don't leave it up to me my words are mere echoes LET MY PEOPLE GO! but nobody is listening
It figures the rich in this city don't give a dam ABOUT THOUSANDS OF SCREAMING NIGGAS
THE WATERS ARE RISING and so are the number of victims we cant call on God because he is the one who did this along with tampered-with levee systems GRANDMA SAY GOT DON’T GIVE YOU MORE THAN YOU CAN TAKE AND DADDY SAY GOD DON’T MAKE NO MISTAKES but i know government officials do and i know what happens when THOUSANDS OF SCREAMING NIGGAS ARENT LISTENED TO
What a sight for sore eyes to witness such a painful changing of the seasons the magic curtain has been pulled away now that the waters are receding
and the crowd gasps as they watch the stranded struggle for purpose how government officials really feel about the black social class has finally surfaced
It figures the rich in this city don't give a damn about thousands of dead niggas
Refugees in the same country we pay taxes to live in
THE WATERS ARE RECEDING the cleansing is fleeting the christening is one genuflection away from being completed.
Do you smell that? smells like thousands of dead niggas a city flooded by the same rivers that were used to carry slave ships and forced to swallow dead niggas
You should have know that overboard thrown slaves would not be digested well now the old man river has taken his revenge and he’s making sure you hear the story he has to tell
The slaves kept turning and turning under the sea due to their restless souls until they picked up enough winds to blow them back on the ones who stole them is how the story was told
The winds that blew off the coast of Africa across the Atlantic followed that same middle passage to remind these southern states of their damage
They blew apart those same ports that were used to auction off families on and blew down those same trees that were used to hang niggas on
And as the waters recede back into the river we see government officials still don't give a damn about thousands of dead niggas.
Soul Mates
You remind me of my ex-wife from a past life who I committed suicide to escape from when I made myself wings of feathers and wax, and fell to my death when I flew them into the sun. You just laughed and floated over me as I drowned.
They say birthmarks are entry wounds that show where we died before, and dreams are just memories we carried with us from the other side, which is why you looked so familiar the first time I saw you. Your feet never touched the ground.
My opening line was “you look like my daughter,” you smiled and asked “how old is she?” I said, “well if it all works out, five years from now she’ll be three, but I’m in no rush.” It felt like a third person existed between us.
And I wasn’t sure who we were before, or who are supposed to be, but I knew that on the other side of the world planted deep inside a forest there is a tree with our names carved into its side, and written in a language neither of us speak is inscribed
“forever is a pretty short time looking back on it,” and even though we may not be able to read it, we would instantly recognize our handwriting as evidence that we were part of the same tribe that died out a thousand years ago, and we would brace ourselves for
the earthquake as our souls shake and vibrate higher. We were sent here to repopulate so there was no time to apologize for everything we were about to put each other through. You just grabbed my hand and said “I look forward to getting tired of you.”
God don’t make mistakes, but people do. Souls only know wavelengths, and communicate through music and colors and sound; they don’t always remember to leave the key under the mat, or come home before 3 a.m., or put the toilet seat down, or
make sure to hold your hand whenever we’re out in public, because the flesh doesn’t understand it’s just a vessel full of flaws. Soulmates exist to serve as a reflection of how truly damaged we really are, how hurt, desperate and unexamined we are.
I never asked for a soulmate, just someone who hates all the same things I do, and in you I confronted all of the things I hated in myself, like a mirror that reveals the first time you realize you are no longer beautiful. My ugly is going take some getting used to.
I used to fear going to sleep next to you because I would get tangled in your hair and you would roll over, strangling me, leaving gasping for air in one of those dreams where you can’t quite wake yourself up, until I realized that you only hogged the sheets so you could
expose me to the cold and wake up the other side of me whenever my dreams got off track. My arms would always go numb so I could never fight back. So instead of starting a war with you I would just kiss you on your cheek.
Maybe we’re just meant to walk through life trying to fill each-other-sized holes in ourselves. Feeling like we swapped souls at a crowded train stop like two strangers who picked up the wrong bag and were forced to wear the clothes they found inside.
I have that sweater you’ve been looking for, it’s a little stretched out but it still smells just fine. Find me again so we can make amends, or at least swap bags one last time. Everyone deserves a seventh chance.
I guess I’ll see you next lifetime when you and I are butterflies and during our migration we can gently clip wings and create a vibration that causes the tides to rise off the shores of Hawaii and forms a tsunami that crashes into the coast of Japan
and floods some kind of nuclear reactor that causes the world to spin backwards and we can finally rest our wings on the sand and look back on all we destroyed with a smile, and I’ll know that it was all worth it just to be with you when the world ends.
WTF?
All that looking and staring and talking and asking and texting and sweating and calling and meeting and seeing and eating and drinking and repeating and trying and lying and promising and touching and hugging and kissing and licking and sweating and undressing and resisting and submitting and letting go and giving in and moaning and cursing and screaming and cumming and going and pulling out and pulling away and questioning and going with it and rethinking and getting dressed and regret and being quiet and accepting and ignoring and cursing and screaming and crying and lying will have you wondering wtf just happened?
I Used To Have These Dreams About You...
I used to have these dreams about you. They were so vivid I’d wake up to see the blood rushing back to my skin where you had just let my arm go. I would open my eyes in mid sentence while mumbling something incoherently only to realize I was talking to a ghost. It felt like you were there, but every time I would try to grab your hand, or touch your hair, my arms would go right through you. Funny, you always had your rules. Why don’t you ever take your shoes off while you walk around my head at night? You know my mind is made of hardwood floors. They creek with every step you take. At least close the door behind you so my thoughts don’t escape.
Waking up was always like walking away from a car crash. I would see my life flash before my eyes every morning, happy we’re still alive, but still holding regrets for those mistakes I made in the past. I would always have so much to tell you, but the nights never lasted long enough, and the dreams always ended too soon. I’m glad you’re here in this room so I no longer have to pretend I’m talkin… damn, I’m waking up again.
I want what I want as quickly as possible to make sure it's something I still want once I get it. If not, gives me enough time to want something else.
Happy Birthday 2Pac
I remember riding the subway in New York around this time last year and overhearing a kid, no older than 15, say "I really look up to Chris Brown. He can dance, he can sing, he paints, he does it all. He's my hero," and my first thought was - poor kid, he is about to have a rough life. Then my second thought was - this is probably how I sounded some 15 years ago when I told my parents and teachers how much I idolized 2Pac, that he was my hero. And he was. I had every album, every documentary, every book, and almost every movie he was in. And luckily for me, I had a mother who didn't condemn my idolization of 2Pac, but would take me to Blockbuster Music on Carrollton to get his newest albums the day they came out. Yes, 2Pac was my hero, and he was an important one because he was the first hero I chose, the first hero that was not assigned to me by my elders. Sure he was flawed, contradictory, extreme, and sometimes vulgar - but he was also unapologetic, genuine, caring, and determined to uplift those in his community. He made songs like "Keep Ya Head Up," and "Smile," and "Dear Momma," and "I Wonder If Heaven Got A Ghetto" that can still put goosebumps on your neck when you hear them today. Sitting here at 29 and looking back on a life that was cut short at 25 almost two decades ago, I still consider 2pac a hero for the impact he was able to make on an entire generation at such a young age. Sure he made some mistakes along the way, but those mistakes I can learn from without exemplifying them. Pac, the world is a dimmer place without you in it, but a much better one for having you here. Happy Birthday. (Takes sip of Hennessey)
I’ve been cursed with a vivid memory. I remember everything. Mistakes I’ve made, people who hurt me, that girl in the 4th grade who told me we would get married at 28, all the criticism I’ve gotten, the bad things my friends say about people when they’re not around, the text message I accidentally read when I looked over your shoulder last night, and everything in-between. A vivid memory is unforgiving. The world can be a hard place to navigate when you’re constantly being reminded about all of the things that didn’t go right, or trying to smile at all of your critics. Sometimes I just want to shut down and close myself off, and take a break from pretending. Acting like I don’t remember what happened yesterday, or last year, or when I was 8 becomes exhausting.
Anybody claiming to be your soulmate is probably a sociopath.
Be Safe
I’m superficial, I know, and I’m growing, but I felt something last night when I hugged her bye. Maybe because I was drunk and she was high, but I didn’t want to let her go. She’s so cute and so stranded and so graceful and so damaged and so ready for whatever is about to happen next. She laid her head on my chest and said “be safe,” and I knew she was talking about more than just the drive home.
This year I decided to draw my family with cake crowns for their Birthdays. Kings for a day.
Lately I've Been Falling In Love
I try to fall in love at least once a week. Lately I’ve been falling in love with music and cities because people don’t always love you back the way you want them to. Instead of setting myself on fire, I’d rather buy a ticket to New York and fall in love with the view. Or listen to Coltrane and fall in love with the blues. Or run my finger across a map and fall in love with the idea of falling in love with someone new, somewhere new, in a place I’ve never been and in a language I’m not that fluent. But sometimes I can’t help myself and I still fall in love with you. All of you. Over and over again. I fall in love with the memories. I fall in love with the possibilities. I fall in love with cities I’ve never been to, like Montreal, or Paris, or Little Rock, Arkansas. I fall in love with new Prince songs I’ve never heard before. I fall in love with bad advice. I fall in love with that missing hour of sleep I lost last night. I fall in love with the people who love me every now and then just to see what that feels like.
This may be a bit intense...
Every day without you is like a week without rain, to survive, I’m forced to drink the blood of the other loves I’ve slain.
Look how you’ve changed me. I’m a vampire, I’ve died but still remain here in a castle that’s haunted by the absence of you. You’re the real monster though you have no claws, no fangs.
Every night I stare into the waters of Lake Pontchartrain as the sun sets, then I dive in and swim to the other side without taking a breath as I search through swamp and suburb counting each and every one of my steps, holding out hope that I will find your footprints left behind, and I’d follow them blindly off the edge of this earth while I fight off beast and thief as I search for a sign that you may not be as far as I think you are.
Though I am the hunter and you’re on the run I have armed myself with flowers and gave you the gun so when I find you my fate is yours to choose, and if you reject my apologies I’ll drag my bloodied and lifeless body back across those slain beasts’ and thieves’ bones making sure I leave a trail of these flowers and bleed all the way home just in case you change your mind and want to love me back to life again you'll know where to find me.
If not, I’ll gladly die knowing that the night is not as frightening as what I see every morning when I wake and face the dawn.
Superhero
You set your bedroom on fire just to get my attention. You complained I never noticed you. I saw the smoke coming from your window as I walked down your street and heard you screaming for me to break through. Usually one to stand idly by and watch things burn I decided this time to run in and save you.
You wanted to be saved and I didn’t care if any of this was staged I still ran up your fire escape, mask and cape, wanting to be a hero. My only superpowers are superficial. You called for me by name. I made it all the way up to the 3rd floor, kicked in your door, and blew out every flame.
There was nothing left for us but ash and dust. Then things changed.
What Do You Believe In?
I never really knew if the earth went around the moon or the sun around the earth, but I still went to church when you asked me to. I still held hands and prayed with you even though I had questions about your prayers and your God and your Heaven and the stares I used to see your momma give to the Reverend when he sang hallelujah. But I never questioned your truth. I admired you for the fact that you could believe in something so blindly without ever needing proof, and that was enough to make me believe in us. I believed in love.
They say God is love so I thought my love was your truth, and I made sure I loved you exactly how you asked me to. On Sunday mornings at 8:00 am so we could get an early start on repentance for the sins we committed the night before. I was never sure what you prayed for, but I went through the motions with you even though all my prayers were ignored. I prayed for us.
I even turned my back on my own Catholic Jesus to pray to yours, despite the fact he and I still had some unresolved issues between us.
You shunned my philosophy. I held your hand as we believed in all your contradictions and hypocrisy.
You prayed for everything but us. You believed in everything but me.
I never had a religion, but I believed in you and you let me down. So what do I believe in now?