It started with Tosyn commenting on one of my posts, “Nice one Bruv/Sis. Please keep them coming”.
Bubbllinna replied, “Elove is a dude…@tosyn keep off!…hehehe…”
Then the Head Wordsmith, Kaycee, asked, “Elove is a dude??? Mtcheeew. All these romantic dudes seff?”
I replied without an answer, “Yep??? It happens that ‘we poets’ know paper/pen love, but in real life…!!!”
That was last year, March 2012.
A year later, Chemokopi commented to one of my posts, “…..Well done, man.”
My all-time favourite, Bubbllinna replied back, “Elove’s a lady. Unless there was a surgery involved. Lol…”
“Tell them @sibbylwhyte (Bubbllinna)…” That’s what I wrote back. This was in May this year, 2013. In between March 2012 and May 2013 I have had to put up with ‘well done sir’s, ‘nice one man’s and ‘keep it up man’s.
I call myself Elove Poetry, fans know me as Elove Poetry, and I am Elove Poetry.
But who really is Elove Poetry? Am I a dude, a dudette or something in between? Something tells me I’m being read wrong.
In search of a name for myself, and place in the society, I left the memories (of a life not known) behind, wanted to identify with humans, and thus got a name. Sexuality notwithstanding, I live in ambiguity, doubting my beliefs and believing my doubts, questioning what men aren’t brave to question, living one day at a time thinking that mystique is chic and radical is the way I ought to be.
I know, I am a lady to many, blame it on my name, but yet I am a gent(leman) to few who squint enough to see who I am. In the end, what I am is whom I am, Elove Poetry.
I just wonder, last year I was a dude (Thanks to Bubbllinna pointing out that), this year I am a lady (I owe Bubbllinna a mammoth). What would I be come next year, a she-male? What gives, I ask.
I received my first kiss the other day and it felt nice, the kiss every girl talks about like forever. It felt so nice to be a girl. I had a school girl crush on him and he gave me what I was looking for. Then came my first, and probably the last, lesbian kiss (never mind there has never been another kisscapde since Britney Spears and Madonna made headlines, I’m no celeb to get the attention otherwise you would have known) in succession.
I fell in love with a girl; she is the queen of my literary heart, and I’m falling in love with her (romantically) each and every passing minute. She has made me an informania. She can’t see that I am the man her heart would be at home with. Perhaps it’s because I am Elove Poetry and she can’t peel back the mask behind the face. Or perhaps it’s because I am not Elove Poetry and she finds it daunting a task to know me. Secrets aren’t what we don’t say, but the masks we wear. The question is who would be brave enough to peel back the mask and expose the devil/angel.
Humans fear nothing, like the fear of darkness. They don’t have a scintilla of what they are afraid of, however once they plunge into the darkness they were afraid of in the first place they fight to go, they can’t live with the consequences of their decisions. In the end, hearts are broken.
But what you don’t know can’t harm you. You don’t just get into any rabbit-hole. You don’t know what you will find, you might even be bitten.
Okay, lemme put the case to rest, once and for all about me. I am a ‘man’, as in men, not ‘man’ as in ‘man’. To be removed from a man’s rib sucks, and sounds creepy, yet I love it – I don’t have to do much for anything. On the other hand, to give out my ribs feels great. At least I know something good can come from me.
You know me, Elove Poetry here.
I love you.