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A woman once told me that when she falls in love, she loses herself, well I hope she knows that I am literally the lost and found where her shattered spirit can be claimed without signing papers or describing to officers what it looks like, and if she still feels I’m lying, then she can issue an amber alert, warning, missing is a woman, her weight is that of the dead souls she has collected inside of her and now lay decomposed in her barren household, her height has been reduced from five foot something to three feet nothing, because she has allowed men to break her down over time, her skin tone is that of vitiligo, each white patch represents every time she loss pigment, when they told her that her black wasn’t beautiful enough, she has been missing for approximately 40 days and 40 nights, and even Jesus Christ couldn’t help her during this time even though he was tempted to, if you see her please dial 1-800-she lost, but ironically, no man could report finding her because her cardiac had no signal and her soul was out of service, so the question as a man to ask is will it be worth it, to restart a process in the form of a new project that may take months or years to rebuild, because that’s all love truly is at the end of the day, a construction process, I am merely an architect, my blueprint for success involves the blessings from Jehovah and a love take over, girls, girls, girls I don’t adore, because only one gets the roc thrown on her finger cause diamonds are forever, and when they try to question my forever, I tell em there is no reasonable doubt that in my lifetime, she is the only one meant for me, and for some strange reason I now wanna listen to Jay Z...the foundation is laid well before the building block process, cement from the mixing truck is nothing more than me pouring into her and sealing the holes in her heart, my wooden frames are nothing more than a support system that will hold her up when she is feeling incomplete, the outer walls made of brick are the protection that I encase her in, see love is always under construction, cause they say if you build it, they will come, that’s why my grandpa always told me to build your woman up, and also eat her up at the same damn time, because what’s a home without a steady supply of food to eat, here, in this house, her cabinets stay stocked of I love you’s, you can do it’s and don’t give ups, our freezer contains the memories of what we made, only to be thawed out at an old age when we wanna reminisce, a kiss is the key that unlocks both of our doors and opens us up to each other, no matter if the news is good or bad, this house is now a home, decorated with plush carpet, a bomb living room set, dining room with a top notch kitchenette, and just to keep it all the way black, we stuff plastic bags inside of other plastic bags and leave em under the kitchen sink, see love forces you to think before a reaction, love is 5% words and 95% action, love is not actin, but an occasional role play keep the side pieces away, love is built from the ground up, but most importantly, love is equal, to hell with the happy wife happy life, try living by happy spouse happy house, let the fireplace stay lit, let love never fold, because the worst thing is to be on the outside looking in, at the one you once loved, but now the house reads….sold
