Because Cousin Sarah asked me to

Dear Cousin Sarah… You asked me to blog and gave me the warmest hug at Neo Soul a week ago so this blog is for you. NOT ABOUT YOU, BUT FOR YOU… Keeping with the metaphor of my last poem I decided to extend it to another topic. Maybe I will have a whole Sugar Series on different subjects.
The content underscored is a poem I am making up on the spot cause I don’t write enough poetry. For all the sisters that have lost home girls due to whatever here goes…………………

Sisterhood is the sweetest salutation my soul has known,
but what happens in the silent moments behind the scripted words when the scribbles of sin seep deep into the crevasses of hearts,
and swarthy secrets start to fester between friends?
What happens when the darkness of shame threatens to stain the beauty of bonded kinship that is exchanged as maturation ripens our skin.
How do we erase the demarcated lines designed to hinder us from extricating our pain with the companions that we once found comfort in?
It seems the bend in our demeanor and pent up pride has cast our cohesion aside and created discord between allies.
Time is a mechanism designed to bring change
but I never thought it would strengthen the strain that has craned the neck of our progress. Two hearts in duress can not press past the stress of quarrels
or the quiet that has kept us pantomiming truths under spoken lies.
So I cry for the sisterhood I once had.
Our words weep the trespasses of boundaries we were always meant to cross with permissive care. But as I stare into the face of negligence I feel I can no longer vent my frustrations here. We have exhausted our harmony worlds apart from each other
though we are only one call away.
So I stay to myself and refute the necessity of help that comes from the bosom of my budding denial. Through sisterly courage and feminine bonding
we once sustained our survival, but now the trails of life and former indiscretions have threatened our communion.
So I choose to sip on sketchy details failing to divulge the hell.
I skim over highlights and trite dissertations forsaking the depth of conversation we should have. For I fear your judgments.
I fear your advice. I fear your concerned filled commentary on my life.
And at times I fear that I am wrong and you are right.
So pain just writes itself leagues and leagues
beneath the surface of my epidermis and lifts the a thin layer of mistrust to settle upon us,
until it crusts us over.
Words become colder and salutations no longer hold the warmth and impact they once had.
We misinterpret each others responses from the lack of things said.
We forget to greet to each other with the sisterly sweetness that once dressed our decadent hellos and sugary goodbyes.
We start our dialogue with salty salutations and end with sour whispers that die.
So in silence I weep for my sisters,
because there is no one left to hear my cry.

aww sorry it had a sad ending… that is how the cookie crumbles

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