Love Matters

YOU are my therapist. open your ears. hear my fears. look into my eyes. my lips, thin and slender. my nose pointy enough to be shoved up your butt, with little resistance. but I don't care. I don't care what you think and I don't care what you say. your shoulds and your should nots. today you will only listen. today you are not you. you are gray. a gray person. from a gray town. you have no money. you have no parents. you have no kids. you are naked. bare. open.

so hear me out.

White love matters. Blue love matters. Purple love matters. Black love matters. black skin matters. black lips matter. How could it make my heart go pitter-patter You ask. A white girl from a white town with white sheets; well I can tell you one thing i'm sure you've already guessed. I’m not offering my explanation until you offer your ear. I’m not asking you to do as i do. But to let me do what i do Without your input. He's black. wrapped with all sorts of stereotypicals and challenges ahead. I did not choose this love because it was fulfilling some sort of F bomb to the world. This love chose me because my heart can see every inch of it in its entirety. It can feel around the dark, rough edges. it can sync to the rhythm of a person who comes from a different town. A different culture. A different Race. And our song is glorious. Our song is such a sweet, weird mixture of beats that you don’t know what to even do with yourself. You hear it on the radio and For a moment your hand extends out to switch the station because that is what your parents would do. “this isn’t music, this is just noise!” Because it’s new. Different. Unfamiliar. But every noise has a meaning, a purpose. The cricket‘s chirp can not be hushed. It can not be drowned out or ignored. And so as a society we have chosen to exploit this cry as the embodiment of nothingness. And of silence.

The absurdity is unreal.

Unfortunately I am aware that my 45 minutes is up. And when I leave this room you will reset to deal with the next set of unsolvable problems from the poor sap after me. And you will forget all about what I have said here today. You will make your way home and numbly cook dinner for your family and watch your favorite sitcom all snuggled up on the couch. And I want nothing more for you than to do as such. I hope your kids eat all their vegetables and your husband rubs your feet, and I hope your dog curls up at the edge of the bed as you get ready to sleep. And with Your head on your pillow, counting your sheep, all I want is for you to sink deeper into your thoughts. I want a silky warm billowing blanket to create a sultry black void to caress your soul for the night. To sooth it. With nothingness. And just as you start to drift above the clouds. I wish it to be Abruptly YANKED away

by a single crickets chirp.

Cheep. Cheep. Cheep.