Tag: writing

beccaoronozLeave a comment

I sought after your wisdom

A child following my mothers eyes

Till I grew up

And began to love

Bones similar too mine..

the eyes I once admired

Cursed at my behavior

Of inexcusable

Unforgivable sin

Doomed to the gates of hell

I felt abandoned

By arms

Who I thought love

Was meant to be unconditional

So

That night

I took a shower

With my tears

And asked my heavenly creator

If the love

And good in my heart

Was going to be casted away

By who I choose to love?

As I closed my eyes

Ready to burst from heartbreak

I felt a warm embrace

That I didn’t receive from my mother

But from a presence who I was unable to see

A presence who told me

It’s ok, I love you for who you are

And knew who’d love

Before you knew what love meant.

You are going to be ok

It was in that moment

When I Too,

knew I was going to be okay.

Softly

beccaoronozLeave a comment

Dear heart,

You and I are a symphony of romance, continually trying to harmonize ourselves with a beat that doesn’t fit our rhythms. We constantly are trying to retune ourselves to lovers that have no desire to play their part. The more sets i play, the quieter my heart beats.

I don’t understand.

Why do I keep intertwining with souls that couldn’t care less, if my body was no longer beside them in the morning? Have I not expressed my love, loud enough? Have I not kissed all your imperfections to your bones, for you to remember how beautiful I see your imperfect body? Have I not sacrificed myself, before your tongue, to have you pierce my soul; because you are upset with the world?

Every morning

I wake up in love with you

Only to have you curse my name

With frustration

Of my questioning heart

And your blurry answers.

We are symphony that

is no longer tuned

But if you took the time

To practice your part

You and I

Would be harmonious in our own way

Creating a love as pure

And as rare

As a sensitive, loving fish

and two passionate,

confident, dueling Soul

Instead,

I am Crying softly by the strings of a broken heart.

Unsure of how many more sets are left to be plaid

Before I play my “final show”

Sexuality

beccaoronozLeave a comment

I’m Twenty-Seven and still care about my sexuality to be revealed. I wish mentality of who I love, was able to be voiced without the shackles of my thoughts.. because I am afraid to still be judged by eyes that are suppose to love me unconditionally. Yet, here I am afraid of the rocks, that will be thrown outside my bedroom rocks of grief of the person that I am. I write here anxiously, trying to calm down my nerves because my sister stumbled upon thoughts I’ve written that no longer make my sexuality clear; leaving me frightened. I blocked her, but within the hour of freedom she had to dabble about writings of emotions, I can’t help but feel like she caught on, to what I’ve been hiding. I hate caring this much; because I am more than just someone in love with my girlfriend. But here I am, with tears running down my face, afraid of what’s already been seen.