dreams with mouths.

my dreams have been talking to me, lately.

they've warned me. they've reminded to what i need. they've reminded me to when i was better than i am now. i recognized what i need to do. well, one of the things i need
to do. i wanted to avoid getting all open and personal, so i will. i gotta say this, though - i need internal motivation. i've always been silently competitive. i need to see something being done in order to be pushed to do better. i'm beginning to grasp what i already understood. we need one another. we really do.

my mama told me i don't like to be alone. i fought accepting it. then, i thought about it for a minute and decided that she was right. the thing is, i value my alone time. i need it to think. i need it for introspection. i need it for music. i need it for studying. but once all of those things have been done - i wanna love with my hands and eyes and mouth. i wanna draw inspiration and hot skin from this invisible him. i'm in no rush, but i know what i want to feel whenever i decide to feel it.

no rush, but it's urgent as a muhhfxcka.

still, i notice that i find comfort in being alone. i have this idea that no one man can love me appropriately. an idea that i honestly don't believe; i just tell it to myself so that i won't be surprised when disappointment surfaces. my chest seems settled in solitary. it doesn't burn from lit fire, or ache like a throbbing wound when someone isn't around. i don't see it necessary to expect anything. expecting holds the sub-sequence of waiting. i hate waiting. it makes my limbs want to detach and run away from me and tension. then, what if i wait and nothing ever comes? it has to be a waste of time. but, i know that it could be worth it. nothing makes sense. everything makes sense. i'm hanging up, now.

save all of my love, and give it to the poor when i die.

Nina Getachew