black parts

when you love someone
that came to you disguised in wholeness you’ll be surprised by the pieces of them that break on your teeth
Their blood will drip down your chin
you’ll taste the bitter copper and discover 
you have to find a different way to love them 
they can’t be chewed and swallowed
made into nourishment to satisfy the lust that rises from your spine
she’s been touched before
you felt a similar burn beneath finger tips 
you have to love soft enough
cautious enough not to duplicate scars
hard enough to convince her she’s not still a victim
you want to always ask her permission 
to make up for all the men who didn’t 
for the man who turned her hymen into a causality of his inferiority and ungodly aggression 
the man who turned her whimper into a repugnant melody
all the men who fucked their way into your day dreams about her 
and you’ll start to wonder if they fucked their way into your home 
they would have already invaded your conversation 
you would have watched her dissolve whenever she speaks of the roughness of men 
watched her skin sear at the thought of those that accused her of lying about all the fire that made battle between her legs
you’ll hate her history enough to want to hate her too
so you won’t have to love the black parts of her 
the parts that were scared off accepting you when you kept throwing yourself whole 
the parts that kept her back to the wall
the parts that won’t let you touch that part
the parts that keep her part drunk and part high so she can only see parts of her bruises 
and part of you who wish you got to her first before she was more piled and woman 
before she had hated every piece of herself that let those men inside her but its too late 
you would have already given pieces of yourself to repair her 
there isn’t much of you anywhere
you would have given her half your pulse 
your heart will beat half a regular for her 
you won’t be sure which scars are yours 
and which ones you share 
you will have no other choice but to love all the parts that she can’t 
to love her
in all her blackness
by then
by then you will need her 
in order to feel whole
despite all of the pieces she’s fallen into 
you need her so you stay and everyday you’re terrified 
you’ve never been here before 
in a place so hostile 
so steaming fresh, flesh wound 
and she’s never been here either 
everything soft and good is foreign 
you will always be part aftermath and unexpected 
there will be days
where she will doubt all the love you have because of all the love that has been siphoned from her hips 
there will be days
when you will look at her naked and what if you’re just like those men 
because your hands and their hands have travelled the same skin
there will be days 
when you hate yourself for it 
and those moments, will be the darkest 
and there will always be darkness where sun has been back porched drunk dead ripped from a person 
there will be holes
where light should be 
you will never give up trying to replace it 
you will cherish the sun that she has left 
to make morning with her every night

The other half of my heart

There is no remedy for memory. Rest in paradise my sweet, dear ah-ma.

I love mine, I love mine, I love mine.