I want to pull more tricks out of my magic hat and post more of my own original creative content. “No Cap on Creativity” will be an experimental series where I post creative writing pieces I’ve written myself either recently or in the past. Writing has been one of my passions for as long as I can remember and it doesn’t get enough credit as an art in a creative sense; especially in the African American community. So like dookie braids with kanekelon and du-rags with the flap out I’m here to bring it back.
Sitting in a forbidden space with a forbidden love past it's expiration date trying to re-spark a flooded flame. To look over and see her name illuminate a screen that use to show my love for you all over my face. each electronically produced selection piercing a toxic, sweet air. Extension after unanswered extension. A sound screaming at us that this wasn't far, and that I wasn't there, my name not surrounded by hearts and roses. She was sent to his automated diversion every time. And every time, as I watched it ring, I realized the girl on the other end was me... Excited and devastated but all the while wanting to share it with the other half of me. The other half of me that was unavailable. Imagine that. Unavailability spoon feeding my vulnerability. Unavailable to what was concrete, But ever present for the waves. She was me. In all ways, Always.
Once again, Erykah said it best: Keep in mind I’m an Artist and I’m sensitive about my Sh*t