August Confession.

To be honest; I never needed the sun.
It was you I was running away from.
And throughout this journey,
I've found myself.
And I am no longer afraid of the dark.
For that, I thank you.

Love, Tianamonique.

July Verdict .

I don't blame you, you know.

If I were you, I wouldn't love me too.

I'm complex and melancholy

And sometimes my heart travels

Faster than my mind

So i'm usually out of breath

For trying to catch up with lost time

Always blind,

Bumping into memories

I tried to leave behind

But you always remind me

Why I can't forget.

I always let you and your sweet smile

Invade the secrets

I was trying to keep to myself

You always did have a way

Of making transparency seem effortless.

And I don't blame you for not

Liking what you see.

My insides are probably

Ugly and scream with twisted

Theories and dark dreams

Sun beams are buried in yesterday's

Summer breeze.

Now everything is frozen over.

But it still feels familiar

The walls collapsing.

The tornadoes swirling.

The heart race climbing.

Yeah, I've been here before.

It's like a dream revisited

Except this time,

There are no good mornings

And no laughter.

I though that in coming back,

I'd find you.

With your crooked smile

And your pretty hands

Ready to dance in our memories

Ready to tell me the secrets

You've kept since you've been away,

But instead

I was greeted by misery's silent smirk

Dodging the harsh blows of fists,

There was noise,

But there was no music.

Did we lose it?

Our summer's always need too soon,

Those pretty June's and mindless July's

Memorized your smile and played it as

The soundtrack of our memories.

This may be the death of me,

Swimming to the deep end of thee

Unable to breathe, suffocating on tears

That your wrapped around my neck

But still I do no blame you, love.

And sometimes I even forgive you for

Stealing everything that was mine

All that time wasted pretending it wasn't you

When it always was

You stole my sun.

Every cursed name you called me,

and infectious touch you handed me,

And every lie you stranded me with.

You used words to hurt me,

And actions to give me validation.

The humiliation follows me in shadows.

Drowning in our story

We could've had happily ever after

If you would have just let me finish

Writing it.

Love, Tianamonique.

May Murderer.

He was built for an evil mission.

I forgot to listen to my intuition,

Slowing letting my guard down

He became my addiction.

That silent assassin,

His presence was magic

And he intoxicated my lungs

With his sweet scent.

We spent

Hours joking about revolutions,

And singing wars into the night skies,

Interlocking stolen kisses and

Penning promises onto unworthy tongues.

I knew he was dangerous,

I loved anyways.

He was stitched with a

Different type of needle

He was supposed to take my heart

And shoot bullets unknown to the core

Instead he sent fireworks to my empty world.

Bursting into flames, my heart

Didn't have enough time to shied itself.

Now i'm dusting off the melancholy I placed

Upon the shelf.

Catching my breath, it's hard to inhale

Knowing my exhale was once consumed

By your sweet smile.

Because now where there was once sparks

There are skid marks of a train crash.

I'm stuck in rehab.

Trying to comprehend where we got lost.

I lost.

I surrendered.

White flagged up, reverting back to December.

My revolutions are turning against me.

I saw the sun beaming in his pocket.

I just wanted touch.

But I held on for too long, my fingers got burned.

He knew.

He knew how far I'd wandered,

How many hours i'd spent wondering

And searching for what was mine in the first place.

He knew how many tears i'd cried in the middle of the night.

He knew my secrets.

And spread them across the table in front of everyone

That evil assassin.

He never did love me.

Killing souls was his profession,

And he murdered mine with ease.

He was a murderer. A silent assassin as I like to call them.

Slithering his snake like tongue down my throat.

Making me choke on every poisonous lie he so easily dripped into me.

And to think, I wasted my breath asking him to love me.

Love, Tianamonique

*I meant to post this last night.. but I forgot. Sue me.

April PoeTree's.

I've found inspiration in crazy places.
Tucked behind corners.
Fallen behind bed frames.
In between couch pillows.
It's all the same to me.
I remember sitting in my 7th grade algebra class
And writing my first poem.
Corny rhymes and short lines,
I needed a way to express the way I felt inside.
I found some in green eyed hues
A muse I held on to for many moons.
I created masterpieces with his prescense.
I wrote pages and pages,
Filling them to the brim with emerald metaphors.
He never did adore them, but nonetheless
They were his.
I found some in my great grandmother.
Though I did not know her well, we shared the same color.
And my favorite scent was her favorite flower.
I found some when I was fifteen.
Silly in love, he filled up my teenage woes
And my naive heartbreak tales all belong to his
Country accent.
I've spent hours scribbling silly words
and making nonsense out of nothing.
But these words are my very existence.
You can trace them down to my very core.
Follow the trail to my heart and you'll find,
Bishop, Dickenson, and Langston's smiles along the way.
I've found love in the stoke of pens hitting
Notebook pages.
Infatuated with similes and metaphors.
And it used to be a hobby; now it's a habit.
Writing down everything that my heart
Feels, and doesn't.
Sometimes they are drunken thoughts;
Most are sober dreams.
But it seems like my relationship with words
Is the only one that has ever lasted.
Love, and passion, and romance seem
To be to far from my reach.
But these words form on the tip of tongue,
Ready to be spit.
There is not room for love here.
Not in these notebooks.
Not in these thoughts.
And I am not sad, nor bitter
About the loss of will that I used to have for love,
For it has only grown my adoration for words even stronger.
Building this garden has not been easy,
But look how my tree's are growing.
The leaves are blooming beautifully,
And I am honored to call them mine.
Stemming from years of heartbreak,
They taught themselves how to grow in the dark.
Yes, even in my darkness days,
My beautiful words were strong.
They held on, even when I couldn't.
And look, as the sun makes is way back,
They are not phased.
And they remind me everyday, that even in
Those places of loneliness, and
Heartache, and neglect, and carelessness,
They will always remain true and faithful.
And I thank you.
I thank the inspiration i've received to make
These words believe in me.
And all I hope, is that I continue growing
Along with these poetrees.

Love, Tianamonique.