Poetry Break: Are You Being Loved Well

Are you being loved well?
I’m not, hell I never have
It took some time to reach this stage
but I’m no longer ashamed to say
I have been battered and maimed
and can’t quite claim to know what love is
this all-encompassing thing that I chase
daily without ceasing, intensely seeking
love

See I ain’t been loved well, but I’ve been used well
the multifaceted aspects of me
I’ve been lover, whore, ATM machine
preacher, maid, chauffer, chef
babysitter, tutor, and well
you get the picture
see at this point in time even though I crave love
and I flail in my desire to be loved well
I have yet to feel or tell what exactly it is
but I am in pursuit of love

The kind that enlivens the mind
and encircles the soul
set the skin and eyes aglow
and causes womb to ripen with creativity
right now falling are desperation’s petals
so I will settle for
the fleeting that shakes the body
and quakes the heart
because is it better to be loved a little
than to hold out for well and never be loved at all?
I’ve been lusted from a far. Is that where it starts?

I have yet to be loved well
and have the content of my mind garner admiration
and the depth of my soul reverenced
and the fire of my heart respected
every fiber of me is acquainted
with how to love well
my taste in men no hindrance
not concerned with external flavor, just internal essence
and the need to be enveloped in the effervescence of
his love for me, and our love expressed
so he can accept this overflow
of love, and encouragement
added starch to his spine and ease to his mind
my ability to stroke his ego,
and his ‘ego’

Understanding all the while that
it doesn’t much matter to me whether I am in front
or behind, or at his side
as long as it’s just me and him
and not us which includes his them
I want to be loved well beginning to end
I need to be loved well externally to within

I deserve to be loved whole
for everything that I am
unconditionally like love is supposed to be
good with bad, on my emotional rollercoaster
holding hands while I scream, cry, and laugh with pride
accept that perfectly, imperfect I am
dope model chic to plain Jane I range
and maintain my personality regardless of setting
and though I love myself well
I have yet to be loved
Are you being loved?
Well?

 

Keisha D

Read this poem and more in my first book available now

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