i walk away
it is he who smiles
it is i who is pleased
Copyright © 2018 Tamika Brown and TheFynePrynt.com
i walk away
it is he who smiles
it is i who is pleased
Copyright © 2018 Tamika Brown and TheFynePrynt.com
Choosing to love
Having love choose you
Perfectly imperfect
Always moving
Always changing
Always growing
Evolving or devolving
Handle with care
Even if not by choice
Even if not given in the way we anticipate
If not received in ways that we hoped
If not shared
If not multiplied
Handle with care
The divinity of love is really unmatched
There is nothing quite like it
We all want to feel it
We all want to be bathed in it
We all want
it
But when it comes and it is not in the form that we so desire
That we’ve prayed for
That we’ve wished for
That we have determined is the ideal
Then what?
What happens to that love?
What happens when we stop handling it with care?
What happens when we stop appreciating it, take it for granted?
When we decide that it is not enough?
When we make those decisions and not focus on what love is
what it is meant to be
what its true divinity is
then
We tear down
We tear up
destroy
Hurt those around us
Especially those who love us
in word and deed
Handle with care
Love
It is not for possession, to be possessed to be given as a possession
it is merely to be
It is to teach
It is to behold
It is to celebrate
It is all these things
It is none of these things
It is everything
To anyone who has ever wanted it
To anyone who has ever thought they had it
Anyone who has truly achieved this divinity
It is hurtful
It is painful
It does not have to be
But
That is what we make it
Because we cannot
Decide
We want to get high
we want to stay high
And for anyone who has ever dabbled in things that get you high
You know, those things, don’t keep you there
The same is true with love
Handle with care
If you are unable to handle it with care
Then surely, you shouldn’t handle it at all.
Copyright © 2017 Tamika Brown and TheFynePrynt.com
Image: blamethedragon
she toiled
she labored
she was snatched from her home land
she was torn from her children,
and they, away from she
she was stolen from her own body,
dispossessed as nonchalantly as you please
she birthed
she buried
she grew angry
she grew weary
she fought
she {somehow} held fast
she prayed
she cried
she empowered, even those who only love her when it suits their best interests
she screamed
she sought vengeance
she listened
she learned
she grew
she took flight
she keeps pushing, even though they keep yelling, spitting, cursing her to stop
she forgives
she loves
she strives
she teaches
she brings forth
she hands down
she lifts up
she persisted.
nevertheless.
even before they ever thought that it was a righteous thing to do.
Copyright © 2017 Tamika Brown and TheFynePrynt.com
Image: tijienenetalks
what is it with this thing
this thing between you and me
this thing that keeps growing
keeps changing
devolving
deescalating
driving rivers and driving wedges
firmly between our shores
caught within the clasp
of a million minutes past
bringing it up
sinking us down
leaving not even enough room for light
much less love
rushing ever swifter towards a calling that cannot be denied
but a calling that leaves me
not by your side.
Copyright © 2017 Tamika Brown and TheFynePrynt.com
where is your crown
why have you tucked it away
have you locked it away forever
do you ever take a glimpse, wonder what happened
do you believe the lies they tell you
do you believe the lies you tell yourself
do you truly believe that you are no longer king
is that why you don’t treat me as
queen
Copyright © 2017 Tamika Brown and TheFynePrynt.com
Image: Basquiat
I should not have said I love you
It was perhaps the most wrong thing I could do
Those words, so powerful, so true.
Those words can raise spirits that are strong enough to receive them
But for those that are not, those words come back as broken glass
Cutting ever deeper the vulnerable flesh of the one who dared utter them
I should not have said I love you
It was perhaps the most wrong thing I could do
You were not ready to receive them
You were not ready to hold them, to keep them safe
You were not ready to return that love
Only, broken glass.
Copyright © 2017 Tamika Brown and TheFynePrynt.com
I don’t know what it is I’m looking for but I am aware to my core that I have not yet found it.
It is lurking and leering and calling to me but I don’t know where it is.
It taunts me and aggresses me and deprives me of any promise of satisfaction.
There are fleeting moments when I feel as though I’m close, so close but that moment passes and I realize just how far away I am.
Is there a secret passageway? A gateway accessible only to those who possess a power unknown to me?
Is the struggle meant to be interminable? Only receiving praise when it is too late to fully enjoy it?
Is it desperation or an inability to escape that makes the point break?
Where are you?
What are you?
Why are you so intent on fleeing from me?
Copyright © 2014 Tamika Brown and TheFynePrynt.com
Image:AptArt
I wanted it to be you and you alone.
Your gaze, your ways, of saying all the right things at the right times.
Your sense of self that somehow made me feel myself; embrace me for all that I have been, will be, am now.
Your touch was unmatched even from day to day; when I thought that there would never be anything so good and certainly nothing better.
But then, tomorrow came and your hands would prove me wrong … again.
Trailing along journeys of love, of lust, of desire, of time.
I wanted it to be you and you alone.
Copyright © 2014 Tamika Brown and TheFynePrynt.com.
Image: Sipo