E. Zora Knight

My photo
a special order, straight queer and strong black.

2005-12-21

Thir13teen Part Deux

As stated in the previous post, I am feeling a bit anxious as I move into the New Year. The personality test is always a great place to start. I reflect on those things that are flawlessly the frailties of my humanness. I relish in them, as I strive to be an individual. The year has been a tremendously painful struggle toward growth, emotionally maturity and self acceptance.
MY VILLAGE
The women who gave forth, nurtured and nourished this idiot. Mom, I strive diligently to carry the family name. Taylor. While I know I posses Elliott traits, your legacy remained. I have been careful in life choices. I have held much too tightly, taken things much too seriously. And now? Well, now I have begun to love in that way, that causes one to lose self and search toward another lips for our life's whisper, that next sustaining breath. Yes, Mom it's dangerously bitter-sweet, yet truly intoxicating. The curve of our inquisitive almond eyes continue to puncture and pierce that which must always be questioned. Grand. One year and three months. Like my mother's, I am sure my choices have not been your preference, but life is an adventure, no matter how deliberately and desperately planned. I continue to struggle with your gift, my determined pride. And yes, like you, sometimes I hunger, yet I am unwilling to sit at the table with those who I view mild and weak. And yes, like you, I know all too well, that their dish of distinguished humility is the meal I need. Grand, I stand proud in your shadow, as I am able to make my own meal, I have found solace in silence. There I am replenished. I miss you. I still search for you. Aunts Suzy/Clara. I strive for the sweetness that flowed freely from your lips and hearts. I have begun to share those with others. A select few, but I share, nonetheless. Great Grand you are a poem which leaks between the heartbeats
of my bleeding heartaches. Our words connect at fading heart lines, we hold hands and I spit the piece of eternal peace that was once you. Please, please breathe your life back into me.
Dad, our devilsh charm and wit have taken us for one hell of a ride. What a strange trip it's been? But I am happy that I have found, just one.
While I may never truly allow another to reside within this village, I have found trees which sustain me. And often despite and in spite of me, they are there. They have remained steadfast. They represent your legacy and presence. With them I am able to revisit those times that were less complicated. I am able to recreate a place where we all reside. ELM. Oak. Pecans. Meliaceae. I love you. Thanks for sustaining me, holding me, molding me, thru you, I know there is proof....

4 comments:

Mahogany L. Browne said...

how blessed are you -- all that love surrounding you. shake off the other shyt and bring in the new year which is fitting of your style. :) cya next year

Shelle said...

what a beautiful way to pay homage to those who are so much a part of u...thank u for reminding me of my own legacy of past and perhaps plant some seeds for my future

joey said...

13 times,
13 ways,
13 days,
13... 13... 13... you are beautiful, much more beautiful than you'll ever admit.
the possibilities are endless... come on 2006.
-kotalian

joey said...
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