Does this world seem a bit brighter to you?
Do you remember when I first smiled on you? Just a five pound blue eyed beauty of a God Child.
Nine years and a week or so away you were born and swaddled in cloth..
I remember you slept in my arms so peacefully during Valentines day and I fell in love.
I fell in love with the baby who I would give the keys to my world you were my Queen..
My one and only baby among your other God siblings who held my heart so tightly.
It's February and I still can't get the sound of the hospital out of my head.
My hands shake like Haitian side walks during the Earth quake.. I know I always preached to be strong!
To you and your sisters and brother but..
Apart of me died the second you passed away on my chest.. Your parents miss you..
They question me every day about your last moments because they didn't get to be there.
But listen we aren't supposed to out live our children that's just the unspoken law I grew up with.
I feel like I let you down, if I could have pulled my healthy organs out for you and my DNA I would have done so..
Some mornings I still hear the similar tone in your laugh from other kids. It brings tears to my eyes that sting like thunder claps.
The eclipse into the night will always be the heaviest. You were my little Night Trooper who shared my Mania the inability to sleep more than 3 hours in a day..
Baby I miss you my beloved God Daughter.. I would trade half my life away just to do it all again.. But this time you would live..
Today is the day that I confront having a desire for love.. People say play the field I patiently wait and look around for people akin to my tastes. I am not some out-striving go getter I work within my means. I am however far from a settler and for some fucking reason; the heavens have a sense of humor! Giving me people who love their space... When I love to be around them but if I am single I have no issue not being around them.. It's like i lose my cool without them.. Yet I should not be pinning so much upon them.. That is my issue so I am curious how will this work.. I am not a controlling person but I do have bounds and limits of understanding. I hate and love humans and recently I've become less fond of my gender counter part. Not for any reason of hate to gender but mainly because I can not find consistency or rather perhaps I am not at the place i need to be to gain the one person I am looking for.. I am making slow progress while taking small turns to explore every door... Is it better to be rich in experiences or rich in the matter of self and standing in the world.. I am unsure.. Perhaps they are one and the same an I am just not at that evolved point where people seek me as I seek them.. Perhaps..
Perhaps love shouldn't
Perhaps love won't
Perhaps love isn't meant for this rugged hands that bend broken pieces and rebuild shattered glass into a masterpiece.. I am a worker of human kind.. I see souls and I tinker to get them to tock and tick like the clock. Reminding them that they still have work to do.. That every day is a gift unlike the last. I confess... I am at the end of my rope. A sonnet lost to the ruckus of broken records and empty bottles on shelves..
My eldest god daughter mentioned that shes happy these bottles are never full of liqueur.. I ask her why because her humor is as twisted as mine at such a young age of 12. She said that if they were full our time together would be; 'should have been and could have been.. But wasn't..' An I laughed.. Little does she understand I finished every single one of these bottles.. An while I am still a hopelessly romantic person.. My one true flower of all, the one who holds my heart for now is her...
The Child in which I held in my arms the day of her birth and baptism. My skin burns like two race war flags on fire.. I am baptized in the flame of vigor and rebirth..I will die seven times and rise an eight time just to see her smile.. The rosy red on her porcelain cheeks. The glitter of her sea blue eyes and the sweet strawberry scent of her favorite shampoo..
She is my tinker and she reminds me to tick tock and not stop.. Because I've still got work to do..
- Xavier K. Hunter, [ Untitled Poem ].