Dialosophy

Diavotionals

My insecurities. My truth. My story. 

Self-Medicate.

1/10/2020

 
1 oz shots of vodka make me numb
to desires unfulfilled
and a house
that's not a home

self-medicate to escape
self-medicate to meditate
self-medicate to ease
self-medicate to sleep

8 oz. glasses of wine make me tingle 
when I want my toes curled
but no lips
to press against mine

going against the grain of time
the box of safety 
the lust that takes me
the voices that shame me

I self-medicate.

self-medicate to escape
self-medicate to meditate
self-medicate to ease
self-medicate to sleep

1 hr. sessions of therapy with tears on a love seat
picking up pieces I thought I plastered together
digging skeletons I thought I buried
but they weren't dead

I guess I should've did a better job
killin' those muthafuckas

so, I self-medicate.

dates when I know he won't call back
so it's good
he won't see me,
my possessive and my ugly

He won't have to love me.

He'll self-medicate.

self-medicate to mend the heart I broke
self-medicate to ease the wrath I bring
self-medicate to understand how we ended here
self-medicate to miss me

pens to paper make me free
writing away my sins
giving up my secrets
to float away

because they never belonged to me.

So, I self-medicate. 
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SHRINK.

1/6/2020

 
I’m hearing voices in my head, think I’m schizophrenic. Isn’t that what Jeezy said? Except these voices tell me to shrink. In recliner seats where my hips don’t fit, but my waist lays back perfectly...fine. Shrink. In the back of couches to stay for some time...to wine and dine...to accept fire and desire with no strings of attachment...or love. Shrink.

I feel at home in the comfort of the walls I call sacred, face mask on, popcorn buttered, and a drink to put me to sleep. To put my mind at ease. To escape a world that tells me...to shrink. In the gym that I go to every day to “work on me”. Where men wink at me, call me “baby”, and I ignore them with the strongest face I know...because if they saw my big heart, it’d have to...shrink. To neglect its own love that won’t be returned. To stop...bleeding.

Sometimes I’m massive. I feel inflated when laughter escapes my lungs. When eyes gaze into my soul until I’m forced to look at me...and really look at my crooked smile, the way my eye twitches when I eat, my obsessive possession, my addictive want...to be needed. I wouldn’t have to shrink if the world was...just a little deeper. If people didn’t want meaningless pieces of me. If it didn’t seem I was everything...to everybody. Shrink.

Box me in....and then cringe when I don’t fit. In your perfect picture. As a lady. As yours. As wild. As holy. You thought I was yours...to shrink. But you didn’t have enough paint to fill the canvas. The edges still white...because you realized you couldn’t finish coloring me. The ends a mix of pointed and smooth...yet the picture incomplete.

I want to give...what everyone wants...every version....every draft....every copy. Maybe for a pat on the back...maybe for a few more likes on IG....maybe for my dream wedding ring.




​I tried to box me in....but I cannot shrink.

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  • Home
  • About Dialosophy
  • Meet Adia
  • Objectives
  • Diavotionals
  • Lifestyle
    • HEALTH & WELL-BEING
    • CAREER
    • FEMINISM FOR EVERYBODY
  • INVEST IN BLACK LIVES
  • Resources & Printables
  • PRIVACY
  • Ask Dia