knots.

sometimes, when i finish washing my hair i tie it in a knot. the knot always lies on the crown of my head, and doesn't come out until i release it. most days, i have knots in my back - either from stress, or from bearing the physical burden of carrying my monstrous tits around. those knots spread to my shoulders, then to my neck. metastasize like cancerous tumors. i can't remember the last time i felt relieved, or relaxed. my posture remains erect, but i strain to keep it that way. i struggle to keep from slumping over and giving up. i pry myself from bed every day to force myself to live a life i am ready to change - drastically. i love like a waterfall, and they run like it could drown them. rob them of their supply of air. i wish somebody would take my breath away. they must not know what they are missing. why would you be afraid of what could set you free? people are afraid to be free. accustomed to being trapped, confined cattle. following behind one another like an assembly line. assembling the destruction of the hearts of beautiful brown girls. but i don't love with my heart, nor do i believe that anyone else does. we love with our souls, collectively. it is not something that you can learn how to do. it is something that you learn to express, but it's already built in there somewhere. we are all so afraid to express what we inherently feel, because of the way we've been treated. i have the typical sob story of my father not being around. i love him, but even more than that i pity him. he ran, like they always do. instead of making it better by being there, he made it worse by avoiding guilt. piling guilt on top of guilt. i can't tell if it made me better or worse, but if i had to guess i would assume it did both. it made me loathe weakness in men, but it made me feel as if i had no choice but to be strong. i wanted to be there for everybody, because nobody but my mother was there for me. the result: lots of leaning, no relief. this has been consistent throughout all of my relationships, this lack of support or being there. i give and give, but never receive the only thing i really want in return. sometimes, my chest is in knots, but those are knots i don't ever tend to tie. my stomach is in knots right now, the stress is moving inward. i am not afraid to love. i am not afraid of pain. i am not afraid to feel. i will not walk around pretending to be a numb robot of a woman, i don't care how many times i have to endure being called a cry baby. we were created with the ability to cry for a reason, clearly the ability doesn't fade along with being a toddler. my mother sat on the phone with me for an extended period of time, explaining to me that if i keep crying i will dehydrate. she told me to make sure i was drinking enough water, eating enough food. i'm not. i know i'm not. i'm not really hungry. thirsty either. i don't understand how they can treat us as if we don't matter when we love them so much. after all that i have been through, endured, carried. things that we should have been carrying together. ya Allah please protect me from taking all of this out on another man. so far, i haven't done anything of the sort. i pray i can keep the trend up. i know i can, because i know i'm fair. it's difficult to be fair in such a cruel and hollow world. they live for themselves, completely. i live to die. that's the difference. keep loving. keep going. you're still here, it all makes sense somewhere in the future. i just want to feel without having to expect to be crushed. maybe that's my test in life. i can take this if it'll take me to Heaven. bismillah.