Jari G.

Where.

Here. Ravished, Devoured after our love making. Here, Where limbs seek one another. Where everyday is joy. Is where I wanted to stay with you. [where’d you go]

Jari G.

Part I

I didn’t understand

And I wondered

Where had she gone?

This little girl

Who looked so much like me

Was smiling.

Her smile untouched by the realities

That growing up blind comes with.

Yes. Blind. Didn’t realize we were drowning

In untruths, mask so polished,

So well made I thought it was my own;

Until it cracked.

Cracked from mother’s I hate you’s

And daddy becomes the nothing he’s promised you.

Cracked from the misconception

that you understood your siblings to begin with.

It hits you the reality that you’ve been breed for a different purpose.

Until it cracks, that mask we wear,

Feels

So

Damn good. Until it crumbles.

Crumbles beneath the pressure

of his weight on top of you,

As he massacres innocence from your dictionary.

Crumbling as he rips empathy

From inside you,

Leaving you there to pick up

And wash away the evidence

Of apathy seeded in you.

Jari G.

I.

I love how you don’t need to ask for love, because you’ve learned how to receive it.

I love how you don’t need to ask for love, because you’ve learned how to be whole on your own two feet.

I love how you see me. I love that I don’t have to work for you to understand who I am or who I’m trying to become.

I love it when you’re not intimidated by my success, because you understand that it adds to our success.

Yes, I love it.