i don’t know what to call it. @yBr.Jordan
i don’t know what to call it.
@yBr.Jordan button poetry stories
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ybrjordan Community member
Autoplay OFF   •   4 months ago
i don’t know what to call it— a love story?

i don’t know what to call it. @yBr.Jordan

i don't know what to call it, but i find the way she commands all the attention in the room when she speaks attractive.

maybe that's because i understand the instances where she wasn't always heard and i'm happy to see her reclaim her power.

she'll have me standing at attention as she spills her heart and mind--

once i've earned her trust. i dare not break it.

she still manages to keep me at ease while we converse about the not so simple things life consists of.

it's crazy because i don't know what to call it.

that feeling i get when i listen to the trials and tribulations and survival that form the dips and breaks and rhythm in her voice as we tell stories about our lives in hopes the other can understand.

everything about her voice is addicting and smooth like pools of rich dark coffee are to a caffeine addict.

those pools of rich dark coffee are what she has for eyes that i can't help but stare into.

i don't know what to call it,

but sometimes i just want to lay on her chest and listen to her heart push and release as she rubs the base of my skull to ease my overwhelmed mind that she seems to understand so well.

resting my head and appreciating that she fought with all her strength and some more to keep her heart pushing and releasing as it should.

sometimes her mind may get the best of her or sometimes her heart too but she just appreciates having the option of someone holding her hand and walking her through it or allowing her to heal on her own.

i don't know what to call it,

but part of me just wants to kiss her head and hold her hand so we can heal from our own traumas and grow together.

ensuring that neither of us are responsible for healing each other and never forgetting that we don't need to be fixed.

fixed implies that something is broken but she is not broken.

she may be hurting.


traumatized or feeling like she's powerless but that doesn't make her broken.

i don't know what to call it,

but being around her...

it just makes me feel like myself for the first time in a long time.

it's not because she completes me, or i complete her.

we are complete without each other.

but she allows me to be myself, full of imperfections and i allow her to be herself as i trace over the story no one heard on her thighs.

gently kiss over the cries no one cared to comfort her from on her stomach.

wrapped in her security from lack thereof on her arms.

remembering there was a time where she hid her line with long sleeves and sweats in the typical hot california heat.

wishing that even then i could've just scooped her into my arms and held her against my chest and gave her the reassurance she yearned for but never received without a catch twenty-two.

i don't know what to call it,

but i'm glad she's alive.

i'm glad i am too.

i don't know what to call it but our bond is undeniably strong.

we built it on the basis to grow and do better for ourselves.

we don't believe in labels so we don't know what to call it.

we just know that we are no longer victims to our circumstances.

with each other, we will constantly be reminded that everything will be okay if we make it.

we are in control...

if that's what you want to call it.


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