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Sav Jul 2020
I've been unpacking old things and I found a letter I had written to you.

Most likely the last letter I ever
wrote to you.

It was tucked in between newspapers
and clippings of some of the writing I had done
over time.

Even though it's been almost ten years,
reading those words
and seeing how gutted I was
by what you did then

makes me feel those feelings all over again.

This is why it's so hard
to look back on my old writings.

or really,

anything I've ever written before.

After reading the 3 page letter I had written to you,

and noticing that it was

tear stained,
written in two different types of pen,
and folded several times

it proves

I had read and re-read it several times
before ultimately deciding
to never give it to you

I realized I never want to be that sad again.

When I searched you on instagram,
I could see that I am still blocked.

Only a small picture of what you look like now,
a window into the unknown.

I tucked the unsent letter into my scrapbook of you.

A scrapbook I'm not even sure I want to hold onto any more.

But I do.

Because I still remember the smell of your breast.
Your hair.

The feeling of your eyes on me.

You forgot it so easily.

Moving on is impossible.

Forgetting is something I hope for.

But I wont.

You will always be my could have been muse.

Even though I am no longer in love with you.
Sav Jun 2020
Why does every moment with her
burn
holes in my heart

but

allow light to seep through
till I see the stars .

Shine through my eyes.
Shine through my soul.

This is the art of not letting go.

I look past the truth
for the lies that I crave.

Twisting and changing
never ending rage.

My mind sees bike ride and grassy fields.

It started with knees and it ended in pleads.

"Stay."
Sav Jun 2020
I've never quite fit anywhere.

Like those japanese games shows where they have to bend their bodies to make it through to the next round.

There was no next round for me.

I am neither black or white.

Neither Trinidadian or Polish.

According to my family and friends.

Apparently I don't belong anywhere but the arms of my lover.

Only there does it make sense.

We are designing our own flag.

One for mixed lesbians.

I think I can wave that one proudly.
Sav May 2020
Shifting thoughts like melodies,
songs we once sang in choir.

As happy as a bee returning to her nest,
to her queen.

My heart thumps to the beat of it's own drum.

It remembers,
it breathes,
it renews.

Knowing that I was in" love" with her.

And knowing now
and truly
being in love with Vanessa.

It makes sense to me now.

How the heart can expand and change.

I will always have love for her. The girl I fell in love with ten years ago.

But now I can cherish it. And look at it fondly.

While I gaze at my sleeping wife.

Her physique,
her peaceful face,
her beauty.

I think this must be the lesbian experience.
Sav Apr 2020
Blocks, cells, and blocks,

we are all cells.

In cells.

Cells of ourselves.

Cells of sides of someone
we thought we knew well.

I can hear conversations echoing
in the hallways of my hair,
or perhaps

It just coming from upstairs.

We can't see each other
but we can hear each other.

We can blow bubbles from the bottom floor
and know that they reach the top.

I can hear people telling their dogs to stop.
Telling children to stay back, and be careful.

All these sounds ringing.

Apartment quarantine.

Home life limousine.

Someone plays music for all to hear.

We stand on our balconies,

We applaud, we cheer.

From this tiny lonely life that we are all now living.

Remember the happiness, remember the giving.
Sav Mar 2020
I've been in love twice.

Once with permanence,
one with lice.

The lice was the worst to cure.

Every moment
of her,
shiny torture.

She hid out,
snuck around,
grated my mind.

Made me think that she was mine.

She lifted my bike
up over her head.

Our love almost blossomed,
but then it was dead.

Then I fell in love another time.

It snuck up behind me,
no reason no rhyme.

It made me who I am today.

But bottom line is,
I'm gay.
I am gay.
Sav Mar 2020
I have never been in a place that feels so much like home,
until the day that I looked into your eyes,
made you mine.

I smell things, feel things that I thought were long forgot
Ranges of emotions that were once long sought.

I didn't know that my senses could be controlled.

I didn't know happiness could be put on hold.

But I do know that when I walk down the hallway of my home,
and see, smell, and touch things that are my own.

Take in the scent of impending Spring.
Wonder what I did to deserve everything.

My eyes burn with happiness now,
the tears that fall are from wondering how.
Just being in love tings
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