I once sang of faith
with unwavering clarity.
Certainty in every note.
The wild berry of a purple heart,
noble and true until hope unlatched,
fear reaching it’s breaking point.
How quickly the fruit
turnned bitter on my tongue.
Now I struggle to hold on
to the melody,
whispering my song
through broken lungs.
-Tosha Michelle
Come to bed.
We’ll nestle like a pair of saucers.
Let me press my breasts
into your back,
my hand over your heart,
Even when I can’t sleep
it’s a comfort to feel
your breaths,
to take notice of
the strength of your body
There’s a lullaby in the way
your skin unfurls.
My lips drift across
your shoulder
in three quarter time.
Every second edible
in its sereneness.
This mouthy soulful love
and a kiss for the infinite
I snuggle closer and whisper
a bedtime prayer of praise
for life and the small reasons.
-Tosha Michelle
Imagine the soulless trafficker
holding a young girl’s life in his hands.
Imagine the young girl in front of him,
eyes glazed from the heroin
he’s forced her to inject.
The unturned years stolen.
Her body’s lexicon
the clamor of sharks to blood,
the swarm of hornets.
Raped. Beaten. Used up.
Innocent debased.
He’s taken it all.
Leaving burnt trunk and a once
flourishing root decimated.
Imagine sprayed bullets,
sparkling on the
grimy warehouse floor.
Imagine the now bulging
eyes of the child, the girl
who doesn’t stop being dead.
The tragic wreckage of greed
splayed on the ground.
Let her gone dreams haunt you.
Don’t allow her to become
an apathetic byte on the news,
incapable of ruining your family’s dinner.
For a moment at least,
be conscious, not comfortable.
Allow her to bare her teeth
and demand that you see her loss.
This child, born into a world
she couldn’t overcome.
Let her eyes be a memory,
that the universe
isn’t always civilized
or wash and wear
Let her blood spill on everything,
the table cloth, the fine china,
the prettily pressed clothes.
See her. Feel her pain.
Let her shadow be your shadow.
If only for a moment, look back.
Hear her whispering her name.
Let her name be your name.
Human. The name of her being.
The name of your being.
-Tosha Michelle
This is an excerpt from a silly little book I wrote called Self Help to Self Harm: The Dubious Guide to Life, Love, and Relationships. You can find it on Amazon. But save your money, a lot of it can be found here on this site. I suck at self promotion. It’s okay, because I’m so good everything else. I’m kidding.
Men, what you need to know about women:
1. We women like to be taken, but not in a way that requires our fathers to bring out their particular set of skills. You know, the ones they have acquired over their long career. No, we want be taken up against the wall, on the dinning room table, the bathroom counter, on your desk, etc. We love to feel wanted and desirable. Dominate us in the sexiest way possible.
2.Tears are not a sign of weakness. It’s OK to be sensitive (unless you’re crying because you have nothing to wear, or you missed a “Real Housewives” episode)
3 There are two places tighty whities belong, on babies, or in the trash.
4. The vacuum cleaner and mop will not bite you. Go ahead, try them on for size. I dare you.
5 Sometimes all we need to hear is “No, honey, let me do it.”
6.Cologne is sexy, but no need to bathe in it.
7. A kiss on the hand at the right time can be quite lovely, at the wrong time, equally as creepy.
8. By all means, be the man in the relationship when it comes to killing bugs, or opening jars. We don’t mind.
9. However, never tell us what to do. EVER!
10. We want to be your muses but not in a sleazy photographer kind of way. We long to bring out your inner Shakespeare, not Larry Flynt.
11. Withhold nothing. We need to know where all the carbon goes, and why prime numbers remain a mystery. I’m looking at you, Riemann hypothesis. Why is it all so weird? Oh, and everyone you have ever dated, and what you had for lunch, and how your day was, and what your brother said on the phone. Etc
.
12. Your mother was right, manners matter. Prove to us chivalry is not dead.
13. Please don’t tell us to calm down. You calm down!
14. I mentioned this last time but felt the need to reiterate, no, we do not want to see a picture of the little engine that could. Keep it wrapped up, buddy, until sexy time (which reminds me, never call sex, sexy time.)
15. Just because your friends might find us appealing doesn’t mean we want to to be with them. (unless your friends are Timothy Olyphant or Jon Stewart)
16. Please talk about your feelings. We want to know what’s going on in those heads of yours. However, we don’t have to have a come to Jesus meeting or an Oprah moment.
17. Douchebaggery is never a winning look. Wear compassion and humanity instead.
18.There’s nothing hotter than a man with tools, unless it’s a man with a book.
19. We like wearing your old college sweatshirt or sleeping in your t-shirt. Prepare to share. It makes us feel close to you.
20. All we need is affection, attention, love, chocolate — and a guy with a big…………………………………………………………….
brain.
From a distance
I make out his shadow.
My eyes cling to the bruised
way he stands.
Below him lies a sunlit garden.
Green, luminescent.
The dew is so heavy it must sit down.
The breeze feels like a hopeful lover.
There’s nothing I don’t see in him.
Beauty’s edge.
The tip of grace.
The hint of masculinity.
He’s in my misshapen skull,
below the skin.
I’m drawn to his sensual gravity
I wish fabric away on a four
leaf clover.
Under his clothes I’m bare
I plummet. I fall for-
toward his sexy order,
Shifting heat, molten.
Release is found on impact.
-Tosha Michelle
My cover of “Million Dollar Man”
Listen to “Million Dollar Man” Lana Del Rey Cover (piano and vocals) by Tosha Michelle 2020 #np on #SoundCloud
If you aren’t following this lovely whackadoo, you’re missing out on some pretty terrific stuff.(See link below) God, it pains me to write that. He’ll get that. You won’t.
I’d like to keep him all to myself but where’s the blog love in that? I encourage you to follow the link and the yellow brick road. I promise you’ll like the man behind the curtain. I don’t, of course, but that’s another story 😉 Seriously, check him out
No. 2095 – http://wp.me/p27egX-2Ko
Two covers by yours unruly.
The soul collects thorns.
The heart hoards regrets.
The mind feast on memories.
The rose profligates.
We were a mutation,
a fender bender, a war
yet some piece of you lingers
in me and I won’t give it back.
The shrapnel remains in the wound.
Think of the stain
that never comes off a shirt.
The burn mark on an empty pan,
left too long on the stove.
Just because we’ve had more than we could take
doesn’t mean we wanted too much.
-Tosha Michelle
My cover of “Love Yourself”
Remember when our nights mingled?
We paid our hours
in caresses and sighs.
The ache and the savor.
Our bodies a map of hunger?
We were red and blue
in equal measure.
Then we put desire away.
Photograph ourselves into today.
The clasped heart in a closed bird cage.
Clothed in yesterday’s what might have been.
Colorless. Now when people look at us
I wonder if they know
we are inside who we used to be.
-Tosha Michelle
You thought you were at an impasse,
a standstill. But that was just your heart
slowing down to acknowledge the pain
You don’t realize there are worst things
than missing the train, busting
your knee, the morning wasted.
Running from your past.
Drowning your demons in gin and pills.
You prefer a prescription pad
to a subscription to pain.
Widowed from your feelings.
You crave the next fix.
Anything to get you where
you’re going.
You look for a treasure map
scrawled in a dome of stupor.
Where the winds remain static
and the gravel never get stuck
between your toes.
You swim in a diluted river
by trees that don’t shrink or grow.
Nature weeps for the despondency of you.
I weep for the unlived life beneath you.
-Tosha Michelle
Everything I Never Told You 