I just want a corner to lie
down in.
Pull the covers over
my heart.
Let it get buried in
snow.
Somewhere underground
where the coordinates get lost
A hideout from worry and the
slow burn out of life.
My calendar whited out.
My fingers too cold to hold.
My lips too raw to kiss the end note.
And I can live in the moment
before.
A frozen vessel alone
in the stillness.
My soul encased in a thousand
miles of Arctic air.
-Tosha Michelle
Sometimes all I can think
about is chocolate cake.
Sugar seeping into my
parietal lobe.
I run my fingers through
your blonde hair, stroke your
teeth with my tongue.
We move like batter
Clinging to each other
Stumbling around the
kitchen.
Desire in an embrace
You flutter to my
fingers, and I beg
you to give away
the recipe.
Knowing how this girl
butters to Southern charm
and blue eyes and measures
her life in spilled
flour on the floor.
Going under in a
flood of batter.
Gluttony in a three
piece suit.
I dream in dark
decadence and open
my mouth and heart
to confectionary splendor.
Happy to get lost in
frosting, strong arms
hard kisses, and oven
baked seduction.
-Tosha Michelle
When my life becomes
hard. I write away in
my notebook of dreams
that lives on my desk.
I take a short cut through
ink to be with it.
My pen
of angst spilling out
particles of love. desire,
fears.
I wonder how the pages
can ingest them all. My
constant purging of
emotions. Trying to
convey with words
truth before time
distorts it and it
becomes an artifact in
the Museum of
UnNatural History.
At times the fog
likes to exert control
over my verse. Longing
tend to be blind to
reality and reason.
It never sees things
as they are. The poet
trying to alter the
past and its asterisk
Poetry becomes a
contraption of denial.
Truth fight its way
through pages
watermark by tears
to sit on my back
like a weighed
pack, pulling
down hard on the
straps. Reminding me
how flimsy
my poetry and life
would be without it.
-Tosha Michelle
I liked the Tin Man song so much, I decided to do a cover. Hope you’ll give a listen
Hey there, Mr. Tin Man
You don’t know how lucky you are
“I’ve been on the road that you’re on
It didn’t get me very far
You ain’t missing nothing
‘Cause love is so damn hard
Take it from me, darling
You don’t want a heart”
This is my elegy for those lost lines of poetry.
The ones that died in my mind,
when I was in the store, out on the town
or walking in the park.
Those times when pen and paper chose to stay
home and take a nap. My usually
fruitful memory-barren.
Go, little poem off to the land of word limbo,
out into nothingness.
The braids of forgotten syntax and out of sync time
will guide you. You’ll forever dwell with untold
stories, names unrecalled, and dreams unremembered.
What if and
what never was will comfort you.
I’ll mourn for you as I sit at my desk
staring at the unfulfilled pages, lonely,
for lines that came and died suddenly.
Erased between here and there.
Sentences that turned into ashes,
leaving only the residue of punctuation
and a memory of the moment
just before I forgot to remember.
-Tosha Michelle
Knowing that I’m less than a diamond,
no emerald or pearl, only mere glass.
I’m not afraid of being common,
or choking on insecurity’s bone.
I carry no bitterness in my veins.
Just a faulty valve of naivety.
My blood pulses with compassion.
The flow of humanity.
Brokenness, the barbedwire
fence I like to call my soul.
I trip over needle and thread
trying to sow a stronger spine.
I back tack kindness to my sleeve
and watch as my heart slips to the floor.
Hope perches on my breastbone.
I listen to it’s tune, wanting to soar.
It drowns out the murmurs
of negativity and doubt.
Finally unencumbered,
I sing along, the words repeat
“go on” “go on” “go on”.
-Tosha Michelle
.
Abstract art by Yours Unruly
Hands Over Eyes
Stand behind me
Take your hands and
cover my eyes, so
I don’t see all
those doubts that
take flight in me,
so I have nothing new
to fear. No new
heartache to blindside me
Loss always coming
unannounced.
Whisper filthy things
in my ear, so I can
breathe deep your words,
drowning out the
voices in my head
screaming “be cautious”
Imploring me to not
be so reckless with
another one so
intoxicating.
Give me new skin
to touch
so I no longer feel
like a castaway
in dark harbor
full of scabs and scales
Let me feel your warmth,
as hope slips inside me.
Face to face now.
You teach me that
everything opens
with time- eyes. minds,
and even a heart damaged
by love undone.
-Tosha Michelle
But now I’ll go sit on the floor
Wearing your clothes
All that I know is
I don’t know how to be something you miss
https://m.soundcloud.com/tosha-michelle2020/last-kiss-cover-vocals-only
Sometimes, I feel like I’m a chapter
from a long forgotten red bound book,
sitting on the nightstand, lost amoung
the newest must read novels.
Other times, i feel like a Whitman poem,
beloved and well read.
Tonight I just have a broken feel.
I raise a glass of regret to memories
that burn, drink to dreams lost, and
loves that failed. Malaise in my bones.
Nostalgia my hydrophobia.
Here’s to:
the nights that turned sour, yet somehow never eroded the palatableness of a half full glass.
I still believe in the soothing cadence
of a soft voice calling my name,
that’s there’s still a double shot
of swoon being poured into a sturdy
pitcher just for me.
I can almost hear the seductive clang of ice, the jazz of a tenor sax who’s notes decant silk sheets, and that drunk dazed look from phenylalanine released, I sway to the knowledge that love is
so much more than that.
Sometimes just a melancholy riff,
a glass knocked over.
Still there’s sweetness left to savor.
The music only dormat to those
who refuse to listen.
-Tosha Michelle
Photo courtesy of yours unruly
Everything I Never Told You 