11 of 30

I recently accepted a challenge created by one of my twitter friends called 30 in 30. The idea is to write/post a new poem every day for 30 days. This promises to be very interesting for me seeing as how I've been going through some personal struggles as of late. At any rate, here's my eleventh offering...

Image is Nothing

Almond eyed vixen

Clothed in bronze magnificence

Her tongue spews poison

8 of 30

I recently accepted a challenge created by one of my twitter friends called 30 in 30. The idea is to write/post a new poem every day for 30 days. This promises to be very interesting for me seeing as how I've been going through some personal struggles as of late. At any rate, here's my eighth offering...



Mood Swing


Occular condensation threatening to fall
Stinging the rim, ruining the kohl liner
Fingers tremble
Phrases dance dizzily along the synapses
Firing
Misfiring
Misaligned
Malignant emotions pouring forth from her subtle spirit
Deeper than oceans
Same sad song sung by pouting ruby lips
Tipping hats to cats that feel most comfortable on hot tin roofs
She's proof that loyalty goes unrewarded
Lavender happy-go-lucky to moody blue could have been avoided
Joy skipped away hand-in-hand with peace and now...
Dis-ease runs amuck
What the fuck?
Switch it up


There will be no more raining on this here parade
Take your tired, wish I wish I wish making ass to those who like playing charades
I'm made of something you can't even handle
I'm a solar storm and you're a fucking candle
Your wick is burning out and so is my patience
Do better or be gone
I'm done

4 of 30

I recently accepted a challenge created by one of my twitter friends called 30 in 30. The idea is to write/post a new poem every day for 30 days. This promises to be very interesting for me seeing as how I've been going through some personal struggles as of late. At any rate, here's my fourth offering...

Once upon a time

You spoke poetry and prose to me

You wove a treasure trove of stories for me

You sang me songs and took me along when you dreamt your dreams

You were mystical and magical

You made me believe we could have something fantastical

But the frog remained a frog after my figurative kiss

The poison apple left the bitterest taste on my lips

Your words became null and void

Promises broken

Attention divided

I can no longer confide in you

I left you a breadcrumb trail to my heart but still...you lost your way

I have tried to meet you more than half way, but you resist

I insist and you flee

How silly of me

End of story

Jezebel (including a series of Haiku )

You're only part time
No more than his sideline ho
How's that working out?

When he kisses you
You're tasting me on his lips
Savor my flavor

You're a scavenger
No better than a buzzard
I'm a lioness

You settle for scraps
Delighting in second place
You should kill yourself

Sad sad Jezebel
You try so very hard too
Poor attention whore

When it comes to cheating...I've been on both sides of the fence. I've been the main chick, the mistress and the clueless love blind fool. Most of my dirt was done in my early to mid 20's though. Maturity and karma tend to make you want to do better. Over the past few years I've been running into way too many Jezebels. The Jezebel is a female that preys upon men who are involved and/or men that other women have expressed an interest in. I was once  possessed by the Jezebel spirit. It started when I was 19. Typically, Jezebels are young insecure females who need lots of outside validation. They're usually easy to recognize because they thrive on being the center of attention. You'll find Jezebels sporting provocative clothing, speaking in breathy/whispery voices, accentuating physical attributes that induce males to think about copulating, posting risque pictures on the internet, etc. These methods are often used by the pigeon class of Jezebels. The more sophisticated vulture class of Jezebel is cunning and shrewd. The vulture class Jezebel employs pseudo intellect as well as over-sexualization (seduction) as a method to entrap males. I know...I've done it, so I recognize it when I see it. Sadly, the life of a Jezebel is not a happy one. They are often disappointed because their prey's attention cannot be sustained for long with such tomfoolery. Real relationships cannot be built upon trickery and shallowness.

I recently stumbled into the path of a vulture class Jezebel. It wasn't a pleasant experience, but it was mos def eye opening. This was one of the cleverest and most beguiling ulture Jezebels I'd ever encountered. She peddles her wares under the guise of "consciousness" and sisterhood. How wretched. Thinking her nothing more than what she appeared to be (a warm "conscious" sistah), I began sharing with her about a brotha I was very much interested in. He and I had been building for a while and I was quite smitten and loathe to keep my crush to myself. Big mistake. Shortly after I shared this information with her, the aforementioned brotha told me that she sent him private messages inquiring about the goings on between he and I. I thought that odd seeing as how she could have (nay, should have) asked me. Suspect behavior. Over the next couple weeks I noticed that whenever I mentioned the name of a male she would develop an interest in him. She gave her phone number to someone I once dated and was still very close to, she even reached out to my ex-boyfriend. Cause for concern? Not so much, but it did make me feel some kinda way. What bothered me most was what I perceived as flirty behavior between this vulture Jezebel and the brotha I was building with. I started paying closer attention to this female and noticed she had Jezebel tendencies. I wasn't the only one who noticed either. Since I used to be a Jezebel, I can usually spot them and determine their class. At any rate, I started to dislike this young female. I have no problem with flirting, I do it myself. I do, however, have a problem with females knowingly flirting with men they KNOW their so-called "favorite sistah" is interested in. Not cool. *Sidenote* She once told me about a brotha she was interested in. I scoped him but never said a word to him. I don't clown like that anymore. Since I'm not fond of devious females, I kept my interactions with this young vulture Jezebel at a minimum. Why bother interacting at all you ask? Well despite being a Jezebel, she shared a lot of interesting information with those she was acquainted with. How unfortunate that she hadn't internalized more of the sisterhood ideologies she espoused.

Wrapping it up. This young vulture Jezebel must have noticed that I started keeping her at arm's length (which is what you're supposed to do with snakes) because just a few days ago, she called herself putting me on blast. She claimed (without using my name) that I didn't like her (true), that I hated her (untrue) and that I was jealous of her (untrue). Never once did she acknowledge her devious behavior. Most Jezebels, regardless of class, are unaware that they are in fact Jezebels. They think their deviant behavior is acceptable and inoffensive. They're in for a rude awakening. I know I received mine. So I'm not at all surprised by her self-righteous spiel nor her egotistical outlook. That's typical Jezebel behavior.

In summation, I've learned from this most recent Jezebel encounter to keep my "crushes" to myself. I've also learned that males are just as susceptible to Jezebels today as they were when I was a young Jezebel. I'm still building with that brotha by the way, though he often catches hell from me for encouraging the vulture Jezebel.

That's all I have to say about that.

What love is/ain't? (Originally posted 4-26-06)

I'm like you, I write too. It could be a limmerick or a haiku. My pen is swift and delivers true, if you try to bite my shit I'll fight you. Sometimes I rhyme but most times I don't, I could write a few paragraphs but today I won't. I'm just sitting here keystyling today, I should be working but I want to play. I write what I feel, think and see. I write some for you but mostly for me. I write to release, I write when I'm tense, I write to ease the pressure when nothing makes sense. I write to ease the pain and diffuse my anger, when I don't write away the blues I feel like my spirit is in danger. Sometimes I write like a wordsmith and sometimes I write like a novice, but everything I write comes from within...that's a promise. Today is an example of my less polished pieces, no one will confuse this for a dissertation or thesis. My grammar sucks and my spelling is sometimes off, but most can grasp my flow without getting lost.

Yeah, okay that's enough of that, lol. Today I want to talk about love. What is it about that little word that can cause so much big trouble? People have fought and died for love. People search their entire lives for love. Hell folks will even murder for love...or so some lunatics have claimed. "Love made me do it". I once had a very vivid dream about a man who murdered another man because he "loved" a woman so much. I wrote a poem about it and I would share it right now but I don't know where it is. But you see how passionate, how dedicated, how absolutely intense (obsessive) love can make some folks?

Love will make you do some crazy shit. Love will make you let down your guard even though you're scared as hell, love will make you slap a bitch, love will make you cut a fool. Once love (and a little bit of anger and of course mucho self-defense) made me almost beat a bitch to death. I was once involved with a man who just had to have more than one woman. She knew about me but I didn't know about her until later. One night I was at "my man's house" and she showed up...with a knife (unbeknownst to me at the time). Now I'm no punk but I ain't crazy either, so I called the cops just off GP. This was new jack city type stuff to me, I'd never been there, never done that and mos def didn't get the t-shirt/keychain/coffee mug. I don't know why, but he opened the door and let her in the house. Why would he do that? Well I'm not one to be punked so I went up to her and tried to kick her out, I didn't put my hands on her, I pitched something she gave him "two years prior" (per him) out the door hoping she'd follow it. Wrong move on my part because that bitch snapped. There was at least a foot of space between us and she launched herself at me. Now I just happened to be in various states of undress (it was well after midnight and he and I had been in the bed doing "it") so I was at a disadvantage. This chick got her hands in my hair and knocked me to the floor by kneeing me in the stomach. I have to tell you that after my breath whooshed out I saw darkness like Rick James whenever he looked at Eddie and Charlie Murphy. When I felt her tugging at my hair I saw R E D. No one touches my hair in a threatening manner...no one. I balled my fists up and started pummeling this chick in every soft spot I could find. When that didn't get her off me, I used my nails to claw her face/neck/arms, when that didn't work I started pulling her hair out, when that didn't work I used my fists and knees together. The whole time this punk ass muhfucka is in the background telling her to get off me. I was laying on the floor underneath her screaming, "I'ma kill both y'all bitches when I get up off this floor". It's kinda hard to fight when you're damn near butt ass naked and pinned to the floor. Her blood started dripping into my face and getting in my eyes so I had to close my eyes but I kept pounding on her. Still, she would not let me up. All this time the front door was open and the next thing I know, 8 cops come running in with guns drawn and big voices booming. It took 4 of those male cops to get this chick off me and the whole time I am still punching her with one hand, kicking her and clawing her with the other hand. She was BERSERK. They finally got her on her stomach and managed to cuff her and I got a good look at her. She was fucccccccked up. Both her eyes were swollen shut, her lip was busted, she had large patches in her head from where I'd ripped out her hair, scratches and gouges in her face from where I'd clawed her and she was just a bloody fucking mess. But despite it all, the bitch would not get off me. Now that's love for you. She took a serious ass kicking from me that night. The cops cuffed all 3 of us. I was mad as hell and screaming my half naked fool head off. I was just way beyond indignant. How the hell they gonna cuff me and I ain't got on no damn clothes...obviously I belonged there! Vagina all out and shit! Well they hauled me off to the back of the house so I could put something on and I was able to glance in the mirrror. I was very surprised at what I saw. My face was burning because the chick took her hands out of my hair long enough to scratch my face but there wasn't nearly as much damage as I expected. I was missing some hair too but not as much as she was. Don't get me wrong now, I was scratched the hell up but not nearly as I should have been for someone pinned to the floor by a maniac. The lady cop sat me down and told me to tell her what happened...so I did. She took the cuffs off me and they brought Mr. Punk Ass Muhfucka into the kitchen to get his story. He was still cuffed. Do you know this mofo had the nerve to say HE DIDN'T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED! "They just started fighting", he says. I jumped off the chair so fast it flipped backwards, I was gonna kill that punk ass muhfucka! Good thing the lady cop was between us. She told me to stop screaming and calm down or she'd put the cuffs back on me. I sat my ass down. One of the male cops came into the kitchen and told me that due to the nature of the crazy chick's injuries I could be arrested but because she was technically trespassing and she had a weapon, I was getting away with self-defense. He told me she had severe lacerations that may require stitches, I'd almost broken her nose and I'd knocked out one of her teeth. I smiled at that but I kept quiet. I wanted to kill that bitch. I wanted to fuck him up too because that bitch came with a knife to put a serious hurting on me. I was hot. I pressed charges...he didn't. I wanted a restraining order but he wouldn't cooperate so they wouldn't give me one.

Ain't that a bitch? Three different people, all of them in various stages of love and all of them willing to go the distance to protect it. I found out later that that crazy bitch left her 5 year old daughter at home alone to come and take me out. How the hell she know I was gonna be there? He loved her so much though that he refused to back me up in court. Me, well I just looked like a damn fool. I loved him so much I overlooked things I shouldn't have and believed him when he told me I was the only one. Hmm. Perhaps that was just foolishness on my part.


At any rate. Do you see how love is? Love will drive you to do things that you normally wouldn't do. Love will make you blind. Love will make you protect folks even when they are dead wrong. But more than anything...love perseveres. After that incident I dropped that dude like he had Bubonic plague and he got back with his crazy knife wielding ex. They later broke up and he called me trying to get back but I now had the t-shirt/coffee mug/keychain. More important...I loved myself too much to even consider taking him back.



Fast forward to Wednesday, April 26, 2006......I am in love with a wonderful man. He is not perfect by any means, but he strives. Now I wouldn't cut a bitch for him but I will beat a bitch to death for myself. I realize that there are going to be challenges that he and I will face both as a couple and as individuals, but I am confident that he and I can do it together. Love brought us together, love will keep us together....we'll fight for that love.

 

Divine Speech A.K.A. MDW NTR (Originally posted 4-19-06)

"I can't live simply because I was born, I want to live because I have a dream."

    What is your dream? Are you living or merely surviving? Are you greeting each day with a smile despite the challenges and revelling in the possibilities of triumph? Are you dreading the trials and sulking because your present life doesn't fit your ideal life?  If the latter sounds like you, you need to get your mind right. Going through the fire purifies you, trials and tribulations are springboards that propel you into glorious opportunities for growth. Change your attitude and you can change your life! Always remember that the universe is conspiring with YOUR energy to either bring your dreams to fruition or destroy them. You want change? Speak change into your life! Practice that Divine Speech A.K.A. MDW NTR. Make speaking your dreams into existence an everyday routine like brushing your teeth and washing your face. At night predetermine your tomorrow. Seek alignment with your Ori  (your higher self). You can do this! You don't need help from anyone outside yourself...you can do this on your own. You just have to decide...to do it. Wake up in the morning and say, "Something better than what I possess at this moment in life is now manifesting for my highest good". But don't just speak it...believe it. Know it. Live it. Feel it! Have an image in your head as you speak, feel and know that all of your dreams can and will come true! Mine did and still are. I trust that y'all can and will be happy, prosperous, strong, victorious, surronded by love and walking in light....If I think you can YOU SHOULD KNOW YOU CAN! I love all of y'all! Walk in peace, abundance, light and love. Bless up!

Creeping back slowly...maybe (Originally posted 3-8-06)

Well sorta.


I have nothing in particular to say today so this will just be a blog full of random ramblings. I'm horny. I've not had sex in a while. So long that I can't remember when I last got some. Strangely enough, I'm not as upset about that as I would have been say...four months ago.  I mean I want some but I'd rather have meaningful sex than "I'm horny and any random dick will do" sex. I guess you can say I'm growing up, lol. I've not had a date in a while either. I used to be somewhat of a serial dater. That too has ceased. I don't want to date anymore. I mean I want to...but I don't. I'm not interested in starting over. The thought of having to take the time to get to know new men makes me yawn and feel suddenly tired. I used to be excited about the prospect of meeting new men, for me it was like getting a new toy. Now I'm like a 5 year old a week after Christmas...just not interested. What does that mean? Is this new attitude also indicative of my burgeoning maturity level? Perhaps I've just grown weary of the dating game. Either way it goes, I will remain single for the time being.

In other news, I've grown very fond of bowling. I've gone a few times with my family and had a blast every time. Now in order to be a real bowler, I have to get my own shoes and personalized ball and bag. Oh, and I have to bowl over 85, lol. The last time I went bowling I met this guy...he was kinda young. I told him I was 35 so he would leave me the hell alone. He was undeterred. He was cute but I was not interested...not really. So I gave him my phone number, lol. He called me almost a week later (I hate those damn dating rules/games folks play....but I'm not interested anyway soooo...). I started not to answer because I didn't recognize the number but I did anyway just because I can. We talked for less than 5 minutes and I knew he was not on my level. Nowhere near my level in fact. He asked to see me and I stuttered, stammered and otherwise stalled for time. Why couldn't I just say never like I usually do? A part of me was concerned that I might hurt his feelings or damage his ego. The other part of me couldn't figure out why I gave a damn. I'm used to hurting folks' feelings and damaging egos....with nary a care. Again, this newfound conscientiousness must be a sure sign of my grown and maturity. At any rate, I never gave dude a straight answer (not very mature of me) so he sent me a text message a couple days later. I gave him some line and he seemed to be satisfied because I've not heard from in two days. Maybe I haven't matured as much as I'd like to think.

On to other things. I once had this very very very good friend. We'll call him...Johnny. Johnny and I were down like four flat tires, I mean we were tight. I loved him fa sho, he was my ace. Well Johnny got involved with this woman and I was really really happy for him. I knew he loved her before he would admit it to himself. It made me happy to see him happy. Well after a while things started going awry. Johnny told me things about his ladylove that raised some red flags for me. Though I tried to remain impartial and optimistic for his sake, I quickly got to a point where I could no longer remain silent. First and foremost this young lady failed the test. Yeah "The Test". She didn't reach over and unlock his door (nor open it). I have never failed the test. That's just not something that a woman who is supposedly in love with a man would fail to do. Anyway, Johnny told me some other things about his ladylove that really distressed me and I soon started telling him to kick her to the curb. That was my first mistake...opening my big mouth. Soon after I made the mistake of withdrawing from him when he reached out to me. Yeah, I'm a selfish cad. I was having my own issues at the time and just couldn't see past my own shit. Needless to say, Johnny and I drifted apart. Now over the course of several months Johnny and I got back on speaking terms, we talked, laughed and shot the shit but it was never the same. It soon got to the point where he did most of the calling, he always asked me to hang out, etc. I put forth no effort to "fix us". Now in my own defense I must say that I was dealing with a struggle in my personal life (a 5'11" chocolate poured over steel struggle named "O"). I just didn't prioritize me and Johnny's friendship. I wish I had. Today, largely due to my self-centeredness, Johnny and I don't really speak at all. I miss him and the rapport we used to have. I've tried to repair the damage but alas, I think it is irreparable. I've thus been relegated to the forward list in his e-mail addy book and my calls go unanswered and for the most part unreturned. I can't say I'm surprised, angry or undeserving of this treatment though... because I so am. I sure do miss Johnny though. Damn, I seem to be preoccupied with men don't I, lol? What can I say, the more things change the more they stay the same.

Bedtime Story (Originally posted 1-13-06 but still relevant today)

Once there was a cat and a scorpion sitting on a riverbank. The scorpion asked the cat to carry him across the river because he couldn't swim. The cat said, "No, I won't carry you across the river, you're a scorpion, you'll sting me and kill me". The scorpion assured the cat that he wouldn't sting her, so the cat agrees to carry the scorpion across the river. The scorpion climbs on the cat's back and they start across the river. Halfway across the river the scorpion stings the cat and the cat screams out in pain, "You fool, now we're both going to drown and die, why did you sting me?" The scorpion said, "I'm a scorpion, I can't help myself". 

I gave the scorpion a ride even though I knew he was going to sting me and kill me, so I effectively killed myself. I'm not sure how many more lives I have but I do know I'm tired of dying.

Today's Advice

Develop emotional diarrhea and let that shit GO! Just let it go! Emotional repression is poison to the body, mind and spirit. Don't believe me? Look around you. So many of us are walking wounded, nursing years old pain with insufficient mental compresses and bandages. Just let it go. Aren't you tired? Aren't you weary? Reach out! Why be afraid to need someone? Why be afraid to speak? Give voice to that pain and LET IT GO! It's 2009 soon to be 2010, cut the bullshit. It's time y'all....it's time.

How to kill a man (Originally posted 12-22-05)

Tell him that while you were having sex with him you were pretending he was someone else. Tell him you were pretending he was your 5 years dead soul mate. That's what I did tonight. I killed a man tonight. I am a cold, cruel, heartless, evil, insensitive cretin. A part of me hates what I did to "O" tonight but a part of me feels he deserved what he got. I loved his selfish ass and gave him the best of me and he thanked me by shitting all over me. One good shit deserves another right? Wrong. Two wrongs just equals wrong squared. Karma is going to kick my ass for this. "O" may be a selfish rat fink bastard but he was honest about being a selfish rat fink bastard. I destroyed a piece of him tonight with my little revelation. That man loved me in his own way but because he didn't give me what I wanted how I wanted it, I crucified him. He hates me now. He won't speak to me. He told me never to contact him again. I think he means it this time too. I fucked up, I mean really fucked up. I've said some really horrible things to him before and he always forgave me...after a while, but this time I went too far.  I'm sad now. He has a bad heart and high cholesterol. I would hate for him to....leave and we have bad blood between us. How do I make it right? I am so sorry.

I stopped writing....

Because words weren't enough.
They couldn't capture my aches, pains, joys, triumphs.
I thought my tears, screams and laughter were enough.
But they weren't.
I stopped writing.
Because I thought my words had fled.
I thought all the consonants, verbs, syllables and similes were lying dead inside of me.
Try as I might...I just could not write.
Each attempt to scribe my angels and demons felt like a chore...no pleasure to be found.
So I stopped writing.
And when I stopped writing, my voice locked up.
I suffocated my dreams, silenced everything in me that reached and strived.
When I stopped writing...I didn't even feel alive.
And I choked on everything that I imprisoned inside of me.
Thoughts bled into oblivion.
Ideas gestated but were stillborn.
All because...
I
Stopped
Writing

But today I will type it out.
I will resume exhuming these figurative bones with my pen until once again...
I start writing.
And this time...
I won't stop.
I won't ever stop writing again.

He pretends... (Originally posted 12-19-05)

He pretends he doesn't love me but I know he does. I see right through his charade. He thinks about me so much he can't stand it. He says to me, "you make me sick, I can't stop thinking about you, I don't want you in my head." But in his head I remain. I gave him something other women couldn't: unconditional love. Or perhaps that's my ego speaking? He's a selfish bastard. He's judgmental, egotistical, self-absorbed, spoiled...so much like me. That's why we get along so well. I make him laugh. I make him feel like a man. But I also remind him that he's not nearly man enough. For that he despises me. He loves me and hates me. I find that amusing.

When I was lonely and needed a hug he came to me. It was almost 3 in the morning. I told him that sex was out of the question. Head, even more out of the question. I just needed to be held. He sounded disappointed but was still willing to come and hold me. I asked him if he'd ever had intimacy without sex. He said he'd had intimacy that led to sex. I found that amusing too. He is the only man that I have ever slept with on the first date. I swear I had no intention of doing that, I swear that on everything....but it happened. Here's how it happened......

Our first "date" was almost  a year ago. The late afternoon saw us at ESPN Zone downtown (Chicago). It was a bitterly cold day and The Hawk was screaming around buildings, tearing at our jackets, faces and hands. As we walked he kept his arms around me. He also made sure he walked on the outside...always. Such the perfect gentleman. He smelled HEAVENLY. He looked like 20,000 tons of temptation packed into a 5 foot 11 inch, 179 pound chocolate demi god's frame. Just...yummy. We got our table, ordered our refreshments and proceeded to watch the Colts rip some other team apart. How I love Peyton Manning. He is scientific with it. But I digress. During the course of the game I had 2 double Amaretto Stone Sours. They were horribly watered down so I didn't get buzzed...or did I? Perhaps that contributed to my loose behavior?

The details are kinda fuzzy here...I'm pretty sure he suggested that we go back to his place and watch another game. Since I was in no hurry to leave his presence, I agreed. We went back to his place and got comfy on the couch and that's when the Itis started to set in and I grew drowsy. I recall lying across his lap and I may even have dosed off. He has a huge, comfy, ultrasuede sectional sofa. He stroked my neck. God, his hand felt so good. Me on him, him stroking me, us on that couch, slightly dim lights, very warm...it felt slightly...cocoon-ish. Somehow, despite my semi-coma I became conscious enough to know that I needed to leave. The temptation that I'd felt earlier was back and pounding on my nerve endings, screeching in my loins and tweaking my nipples...something was going to jump off if I didn't dash through that door and quickly. So I jumped to my feet, startling him and stammering out excuses about it being late and me being tired. I needed to leave.

He looked disappointed but didn't try to dissuade me. I shrugged into my jacket as he walked out of the living room. I thought it odd that he wasn't going to walk me to the door but oh well. As I was about to make my way to the door he returned to the room with his hands behind his back and a smile decorating his beautiful lips. Damn, why must he look so good, I thought to myself. He told me he had a surprise for me. I had to close my eyes and touch one of his hands. Whichever hand I touched contained my surprise so I needed to choose wisely. This was fun. I picked the left and he gave me Mos Def's latest cd. From our many talks, he knew I'd been wanting it and I thought it sweet that he remembered. In the hand I hadn't chosen was Talib Qweli's latest. Awwww shucks. I still picked a good one though. I was so pleased that I threw my arms around him and hugged him tightly. Why did I kiss him on the cheek? That scent, that hard body, that warmth....seduction at its finest. We looked into one another's eyes...I know it sounds cliche, but we did. I was enraptured...he was too. We couldn't look away and our lips  couldn't stay away. They met and from there it was over for me.........


He kept me up and going ALL NIGHT LONG...like that Mary Jane Girls song. Every time I tried to leave he'd pull me back for more. I didn't leave until late the next afternoon...even then he was hesitant to let me go. I didn't want to leave but I knew I should. And I did. From that day forward though, we were almost inseparable.







I've aroused myself by stirring up this pot of memories. I wonder if he'd come tonight if I called him? Probably not. He's vowed not to have sex with me ever again. He says I'm too distracting and it takes too long for him to recover. Truth is, he just can't handle me. Aside from all that...we're just friends. For now.

I'm a fool...(Originally posted June 18, 2005)

So not only did I write this for "O", I also recited it at the open mic night I frequent. He was speechless when he finally heard it...


I'm sitting at my desk thinking about this love of mine/he's captured my heart and he stays on my mind/I wish I could find...a way to break free/he's mastering the art of enslaving me/too bad I can't develop some bravery....and just walk away/needless to say, I stay, his feelings are neither black or white....they're gray/he's unsure but I decided....I love him too much to try and hide it/I confided....in him, revealed my heart and spoke some words/he heard....but did he listen?/I hate when people don't pay attention/no wonder we women feel like we're in a competition....we compete with the agony of men's past failed relationships and emotional defeat/how can I convince him that I won't repeat.....the mistakes they made/why the hell is he so afraid?/didn't I prove I was different when I laid......my heart bare before him?/why must he he compare me to them?/I guess when you swim....with sharks often enough your exterior has to be tough/he needs to cut me some slack though because I've had enough/he’s playing tug-o-war with my affections/while he hides his from my detection/protection....from me is unnecessary/I know love can be scary....but scarier still is life lived in constant fear/I'm here.....so near he can reach out and touch me/I want to be his lifeline....when he feels like he's drowning he can reach out and clutch me/hell he doesn't have to pay all the time, he can go dutch with me/I have his back, I'll ride or die and be his RBG chick/I'll stick....with him through thick and thin/be there when he needs me again and again and again/his lover and his friend/his erection softener/I'll give it to him more often....than her.....and those and them/all the ones that didn't love him....the way he deserved/I've reserved....myself for him/though I could be with many others, my fire and desire rest in him/I'm my best with him....our vibe is so right....we can talk all night....not get any sleep...and still manage to be deep....I weep....at the thought of his lips on my shoulder blade/he is one of the most beautiful creatures God has ever made/his skin is as black as midnight skies/he induces my impassioned cries....when he thrusts his soul in between my thighs/his eyes....I could get lost in their depths.....but one more missed step, and he'll lose me forever/if he can't get it together I'll find someone better....

I have lost my faith...(Originally posted Friday, June 10, 2005)

In the inherent goodness of people, the power of love but most of all in my ability to remain unscathed by the wounds the universe unwittingly dispenses. All my life I have strived to be diplomatic, compassionate, open minded, resillient and forthright. I just can't do it anymore. I'm tired. Over the past few months I have purposely withdrawn myself from many of my circles...I find my own company to be a safe and welcome retreat from the confusion and selfishness that the human horde exhudes. The catalyst in my decision was my recent attempt to reconcile a relationship that was once of great importance to me. As it turns out, the party I once held in such high esteem sought only the solace of my familiarity and willingness to forgive and forget. For a moment I actually believed he cared about me, missed me and wanted to give it another go. That is afterall, what he claimed. But truth be told, he meant only to use me as the pain killer for the love/lust gone wrong ache. Amazing how some men will choose to frolick with court jesters when they can reign with Queens. But I guess such is life right? At any rate, my first mind was to curse him until I was blue in the face, but that would be a waste of my precious time, energy and emotions. Instead, I told him to seek help elsewhere because I am not the 1 the 2 the 3 the 4 or the 5. Suffice it to say I'm done with him mentally, physically, emotionally and spiritually. I have nothing left to give.

Sleepless Night, Sleepless Mind Part 2

It seems that the more I change the more I stay the same. On Tuesday, September 18, 2007, just two days after the 3 month mark of my relationship, my boyfriend dumped me. I have mixed feelings about the break up. On the one hand, I understand why he did it, I really do. I deserved to be dumped for the shit I pulled...I really do. But on the other hand, don't people do dumb shit in relationships all the time? I wish I'd never done what I did. I wish I had trusted him. I wish I'd never confided in his backstabbing ass friend. I wish so many things.

It's September and my heart is broken for the second time this year. A part of me wishes I could blink out of existence. I wish I could stop crying. I wish my head and heart would stop hurting. I wish I could sleep.