Her Eyes

Her eyes:





I love him.

He loves me. Nothing else matters. Our love is so strong that we spend all our time together. It doesn't matter that we spend a decent majority of that time arguing or not being on the same page. This is love. Our love accepts the frequency in which we argue because our love wouldn't dare accept the thought of someone else spending time with our love. Nothing is perfect.

Our love is no different.

The love is so strong that I forgot about all the plans and goals I had in my life before I found this love. More of my plans and my goals were given up than his but that is a consequence of love. Who cares about that activity that used to give me so much joy? That joy -- which depended on no one and nothing -- has been replaced with love. A love that I will do anything to hold on to because I've already moved myself from those joyful things that I used to and could do by myself. I need this love more than ever now. My need for this love is why I accept being talked down to. It's why I try to ignore the reality that we really don't talk about anything that is important to me, let alone anything that is important. My need for this love is more important. It's more important than my friends. More important than my family. This is love.

This is the only love I've ever known.

My love is willing to work hard to gain approval and acceptance. I trade in getting my way so that I can get love. My interests are put on the back burner because I get busy maintaining our love, not my interests. I feel misunderstood and many times unappreciated but he is here. Love is within reach, most of the time. My love sometimes does his own thing. I on the other hand will do the things my love wants me to do when he wants them done. Our love won't exist any other way. This is a consequence of love. This love is demanding. Maintaining the love is consuming. So demanding and so consuming that I no longer love those things that I don't have to exhaust myself for. Things such as sunshine, helping someone in need, being alive. I now only enjoy love… when it's not out doing its own thing.

This is love.

Unique and special to the point that I feel this is the only way to have it. The only way it exists. Six plus billion men and women doesn't change that. I need this love. This love does not give me what I truly need or deserve but this love is still more love than no love. This imperfect love has been around for so long that Its company must be a sign that love is present. To be alone is to be without love. Anything is better than that. The love that refuses to kiss me, open up to me, or sacrifice for me is still better than that. That's why I accept the love that only comes around for sex.

Nothing is perfect.

Comfort comes from being in direct control of being able to guarantee love's presence. I'd rather see it cum and go, then to be alone and without love. Present for only a few condoms at a time, I've avoided having to go without love. Anything is better than that. Our love does not have room for me to share my deepest fears or my weirdest thoughts. I've never known a love like that. Nothing is perfect. Love is no different. This is love. I need love. Nothing else matters. I need it now more than ever.





--Kaloma




"thought it was good
thought it was real
thought it was
but it wasn't love"

--Jill Scott, "Slowly, Surely"

Troy Davis, Matthew 7:12, and the "Message"

Clarence Thomas addressing the multiple eye witnesses that identified him, and his investigation…

“This is a circus. It's a national disgrace. It is a high-tech lynching for uppity blacks who in any way deign to think for themselves, and it is a message that unless you kowtow to an old order, you will be lynched, destroyed, caricatured by a committee…rather than hung from a tree.”





Justice Clarence Thomas addressing seven of the nine (Troy Davis) witnesses that have recanted or contradicted their testimony, and Davis's investigation…



11:08 p.m. ET




Justice Thomas, it is indeed a message.