J Series: Ventriloquist R

Distance only distills our filtered emotions

You are my core

The order to my corruption

And the focus upon my disruptions

Finish my thoughts like you usually do

Symphonize my soul like you musically do

I refuse to be without my muse

I cannot accept that we aren't worth accepting

It's just so hard to love while forgetting

My past has crippled me enough to wheel my self to your doorstep

I want to rush the first step but my feet haven't hit the floor yet

But in my mind where walking into a jazz club

A fur scarf rests across your shoulders

Where're in the 70's where love and music have taken over

A time before rap existed

Where I could wrap you around my arm

And not be embarrassed by male critics

But that was a dream

Now I only hope to be a man by any means

But your love necessary

What we are is legendary

This is life on a ledge served with dairy

Cause you are the best thing I've ever had

Yet the only thing I've never known

We find each other alone

Afraid that someone like you even exists

Too many times I've searched for soil and found bricks

And I survived by building up a wall

That you've somehow

Climbed over

I find cover

Cause to be honest I'm afraid that we found each other

I'm scared of not being the being that you need to be with

Afraid that these bricks can't be your defense

And I'm afraid that the man I've been isn't the man that you should sleep with

So opposed to letting you share yourself

Ill tell you take care of yourself

Ill help you to prepare yourself

For the idea

That even thought we're perfect it isnt worth it

You deserve so much but I can afford so little

And a woman of your grace should never meet in the middle

My Dilemma

I want you

But don't know what to tell you

Cause I'm afraid to tell you

That our heads have tailed you

And until I can flip it back

I've failed you

This letter J is provided by: ipetk

J Series: She Grabbed The Butter Knife

She grabbed the butter knife
With no idea of the man I was
Or whence I came
She grabbed the butter knife

Two strangers with so much in common
Coming from opposite ends of society
Yet somehow drawn together at the middle
I joke
She smirks
"Oh really mr. Tough guy"
"You wanna keep joking"
Her hand reaches to her right
And grabs
A butter knife....

Oh how different we were
If only she had been there when guns were held to my face and stomach
If only she had been there when knives were raised to my throat with intent to harm me
If only she had been there when a lighter version of the cocaine used to keep soldiers fighting in Vietnam kept my 14 year older brother throwing punches at me
If only she had been there when I was held up
The butter knife in her hand weighed less than the brick and chain that I kept under my full size bed as a child
I had knives at ten that posed more of a threat
I had seen guns at 13 that were men's toys
If only she had been there

I knew little of her upbringing
But within context clues I was able to pull together plots
Her defensiveness toward light insults exposes perhaps a sheltered upbringing or interactions within an uppity society that I have often wondered about
Or perhaps she was so protected that her she didn't tolerate playfulness
A previous text of hers referring to stabbing someone as "shank" gave me the inference that the day to day life I had experienced as an adolescent was only seen to her in movies and TV shows
Or so I hypothesized
She was a pretty woman
Earlier discussion revealed that she was the pretty girl
Pretty girls get spoiled and catered to in America
And though she analyzed people for a living her understanding of who I am was, might've only been referenced to in TV shows and text books

My background to her was deciphered by media coverage
As she jokingly grabbed that butter knife I knew that she had no idea what she was doing
And more importantly who she was doing it to
But for the woman who knew much for once she knew very little
And didn't even realize it
Knife in hand, she looked at me
Her eyes rolled slightly and challenged me through her version of feistiness
The uppity version
And before her eyes connected to mine, enchanting as they were
I was already calm

Her eyes tried to reach at the back of my pupils but were unable to phase it's depth
The reflection of her emerald iris brought a smile to my face
I had liked this woman
I had embraced her strength, and courage
She was cute
She was beautiful
As she continued her attempt at intimidation I raised her awareness as to who I am
"You're going to need a lot more than a butter knife"
She smirked at her own ridiculousness
And we laughed

This letter J is provided by: sheryza