Blackgirl

You came to my mind today Your bright Colgate smile From those perfectly formed lips Your eyes, your cute bunny nose You tall chocolate fountain Are what dreams are made of I remember my heart beating loudly At the sight of you Every image of you like an eclipse Of fireworks lighting my whole being You captured my heart and made me a prisoner to you A prisoner of love Love that only I knew about But I felt like we were old lovers The imagined conversations The one where you filled my dark days with your laughter And nights with dirty dealings in lust Of us wining and dining And me staring for days into those eyes   Our wedding did I already plan But I only knew your name   The name of angels and unicorns burst.

Hi, it has been a while but I am still here. The sense of finality The thud of the door closing The beep at the end of the phone call Causes a twitch in the heart Just when you think you won’t feel a thing That goodbye changes everything Says you won’t see each other again You start to feel it all An assurance that it’s over Makes you wish you could do it all again See them one last time Should I run and reach for your hand Or cry it out.

I previously had not wanted to post this but then again, a second cousin of mine complained that her teacher was calling her 'my wife ' and asking students to sit with him and stroke his jaw. I was riled up and disgusted. A couple of months ago,  my younger sister told me a girl in her class got beaten, not once or twice by a teacher on her boobs * yes , you read that right * for wearing a chain,  she got suspended. Why? You ask? because she fought back against her abuser. Disappointingly,  her parents came to apologise to the school. The school who believed and shielded the teacher. The abuser was being apologised to. * let that sink in *. The pervert teacher who should be queried, sacked, shamed or even arrested was protected and defended by the Principal and other members of staff. It's really sad that this girl has being completely intimidated into silence and guilt for doing nothing, and even more sad that there was nothing I could do. Not surprising, stor...