Black man, I am not your enemy, I am your energy ~Tamika Mallory
“Tell me a story,” he asked her.
Well, one day you came into my life. We had a connection. Found our own clichés to make into happy memories. Like how I would call you every morning at 7:35am. Don’t let it be later than 7:45 am. Then you’ll know that I woke up late.
Or you know how we would eat donut sticks in the middle of the night? You knew I loved nutter butters and I knew you loved egg nog. So we would make an effort to think of the other when we’re at the store.
I like how we could sit and just stare at each other. It never gets boring. Your eyes twinkled. I can smell you from the shirt I wore to bed last night. It’s the only thing I have of yours.
Oh and let’s not forget about those three words. No, not I love you. You knew it from the beginning, that’s why this feels so different.
Now there’s a distance present. Not distance as in miles, because the miles have always been there. But a distance in our hearts. Our words are trying to find a way back to each other. My eyes only see memories.
This story doesn’t have an ending. So will you help me add more to it?
Blood sweat and tears finally letting go of my fears. Pushing weight to release the stress. Lifting steal plates of 45s to kill those demons inside. My self-conscious mind constantly takes me to a place where I only have conversations with shadows. Screams echoing like the beat of her empathy is what she had for me. Placing my head on her chest I realize my lips are connected to the cold plates that I thought was her breast. Cold and heartless her love doesn’t live here anymore. But in this gym with these weights we’re connected as one. So I lift and I lift but my strength won’t let me push you out. So I shout. Every grunt and moan baby please just come home. ~ J.A.A.G