{"id":2065,"date":"2014-04-24T00:07:05","date_gmt":"2014-04-24T00:07:05","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/narrativenortheast.com\/?p=2065"},"modified":"2014-06-30T04:48:29","modified_gmt":"2014-06-30T04:48:29","slug":"2065","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/narrativenortheast.com\/?p=2065","title":{"rendered":"CHOICES, A.K.A ADVICE TO THE ABUSER<\/strong> & POEM – NABILA LOVELACE"},"content":{"rendered":"

You decided,<\/p>\n

\n

to open up your hand and
\ndecorate my cheek with fire. A
\nswift movement across the
\nface.<\/p>\n

Your mistake:<\/p>\n

i. not killing me,
\nii. striking with bloomed digits as
\nif for fashion, or pimp instruction,
\niii. not loving yourself enough to
\nvalue your life.<\/p>\n

I come from a tribe of not so nice nice
\nwomen. Us women with islands on our
\nhips are everything but balanced.<\/p>\n

My grandmother sharpened her
\ntongue, before splitting the longitude
\nof a man, seatbelt style, with only
\nher mouth on the lords day.<\/p>\n

Be afraid. Me and my girls are an
\nunrelenting pack. Don\u2019t open your
\npalm to the mosaic of roses; rake
\na body made of thorns unless
\nyou intend to burn the whole garden.<\/p>\n

A word of advice,
\nwhen you start a battle with a
\nperson who calls living surviving
\na meridian spanned war.
\nIf you intend to strike, kill\u2014
\nor keep your damn hands
\naway.<\/p>\n

\n

 <\/p>\n

CHOICES: A response to the video \u201cLeave Whores Alone! This video is only for men! Women, watch at your own risk!\u201d by Manhood<\/strong> U<\/p>\n

Many men love whores\u2026a woman cannot be a whore without your support.<\/em><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

My womanhood and I have separated,
\nnow owned by the male estate.
\nClimbed out in search of unused
\nholy and, knee-dropped to the
\nmale whore Gods,<\/p>\n

pressed her lips together<\/p>\n

whispered for
\nredemption at
\nthe gates\u2014<\/p>\n

got a farce forgiveness.
\nGlory be to the man who said<\/p>\n

\u2026Men are dogs, and<\/em>
\n dogs do not lay down with
\ncats or bears, but bitches so
\nwomen have bitch tendencies.
\n<\/em><\/p>\n

You, and the ones like you,
\nare who I make Molotov of mouth,
\nslingshot of skin for,
\na gutter bank of your laptop.<\/p>\n

Whore: Uncle,
\nbackyard entrance of my body
\nbillowed breath on nape of neck
\nfell in love with girl\u2014
\nno trace of women\u2019s red.<\/p>\n

Whore: my Aunts house,
\nshiver under husbands bludgeoned
\nhands. Slurred stance made
\nretired holiday of her joy, made
\nbroken window of her body.<\/p>\n

Whore: me whispering my name in
\na sweat lined room to tell my limbs,
\nthis is what it feels like to say YES.
\nIt is not the cold blitzing under your nightie for warmth,
\nnot the prayer finally skidding across the wrist<\/em>
\nThis is free.<\/em>
\nIt is my skin disguised as flight, buffer-less,
\nvoice melting out to silk.<\/p>\n

Whore: telling my niece\u2019s beautiful
\nthat it need not hide, never run
\nfrom the jackals clenched jaw\u2014
\nsalivating snare. Tell her,
\nyou are so much free,
\nyou do not owe the half ribbed;
\nthe ones who will call you whore
\nafter gouged holes in your
\nscreams, stories and \u201cstop\u201ds!<\/p>\n

There is a whole planet for us\u2014
\nwomen with the wild eyes &
\nthe legs that spread under
\nroof, sky, holy yes.
\nThis is how I praise dance,
\nhow I tell myself:<\/p>\n

When ALL the boys tried to write
\ntheir names on you,
\nthrough guilt,
\nthrough knife
\nthrough walk in rain in same clothes,
\nthrough pin-down,
\nthrough gripped-arm,
\nthrough penetration.
\nYou got up
\n& walked
\n& said
\nThis is mine, mine, mine.<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\"headshot,Nabila Lovelace is a born and raised Queens native, as well as a first generation American. Her parents hail from Trinidad and Tobago and Nigeria. She is a recent graduate of Emory University, and a winner of the 2013 Poets & Writers Amy Award. Currently she is living in Nanjing, China as a participant of the 2013-2014 AYC program. In her spare time she likes to eat Chocolate Chip cookies, and drink milkshakes.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

You decided, to open up your hand and decorate my cheek with fire. A swift movement across the face. Your mistake: i. not killing me, ii. striking with bloomed digits as if for fashion, or pimp instruction, iii. not loving yourself enough to value your life. I come from a tribe of not so nice [&hellip<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[4],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2065","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/narrativenortheast.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2065","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/narrativenortheast.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/narrativenortheast.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/narrativenortheast.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/narrativenortheast.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=2065"}],"version-history":[{"count":9,"href":"https:\/\/narrativenortheast.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2065\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2358,"href":"https:\/\/narrativenortheast.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2065\/revisions\/2358"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/narrativenortheast.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=2065"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/narrativenortheast.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=2065"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/narrativenortheast.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=2065"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}