This pinched man and his bulk, black reflection with breasts.
We were too much together.
Our reconnaissance failed me, last we saw us.
What eye for your eyes, and my wrists for your last attempt to end it?
If we were not you, we'd be thriving.
We are a tall caucasian with an apple in our throat and
Hair that never finds a comfortable distance from the scalp.
We are still in pain from finding four other limbs our body rejected for being too positive, all the same. Too much the same. No chemical could change this, no syringe could dull the shame.
Stop your hate of all things us. We are trying over here.
What are you doing with your life?
When will you move on to better blackness? We are still waiting, together
While apart.
When we become two entities -- a body and its heart --
I'll pump, you feel, I'll beat, you hum, I'll break
Us soon,
We were too much together.
Our reconnaissance failed me, last we saw us.
What eye for your eyes, and my wrists for your last attempt to end it?
If we were not you, we'd be thriving.
We are a tall caucasian with an apple in our throat and
Hair that never finds a comfortable distance from the scalp.
We are still in pain from finding four other limbs our body rejected for being too positive, all the same. Too much the same. No chemical could change this, no syringe could dull the shame.
Stop your hate of all things us. We are trying over here.
What are you doing with your life?
When will you move on to better blackness? We are still waiting, together
While apart.
When we become two entities -- a body and its heart --
I'll pump, you feel, I'll beat, you hum, I'll break
Us soon,
to shards.
Kara Evelyn is a young poet who grew up in London, Ontario. She is 24 and has a degree in English Literature from York University, as well as a post graduate diploma from Sheridan College in screenwriting and direction for film and television. Her biggest challenge, when it comes to writing these days has to do with being stranded in a seemingly, unending spot of indecision. Being attracted to many genres of writing, including film, poetry, flash fiction and journalism, she finds it challenging to decide on which genre best suits the flood of ideas dammed up behind her eyes. There is no question that Kara writes with all her emotions bare, but over the years she has started to realize that every true or traumatic story she comes across and finds intriguing, may not necessarily be her story to write. She hopes you will enjoy the poem "Too Much Together." It is all about mutual self loathing in a relationship. When we hate our lover, it is one thing. When we hate ourselves, it is something, altogether, very different, and no less destructive.