Monday, November 26, 2007

Long Sleeves

Long sleeves
In the summertime
Always dressed in black
The kids aren’t blind
I never sweat
I’ve always had a chill
Long sleeves hide my pain
While showing off my lack of

Long sleeves
Even when it’s 90 degrees
So many people gawk
I wish they’d stop looking at
Im just trying to make it
My nose constantly runs
My arms constantly itch
My pockets are so empty
I think I’m going to be sick

It’s a bitch

Long sleeves
Fool no one
My pupils are dilated
In a dark room or gazing into
The sun

Sometimes I want to wear a
Short sleeved dress
But I need my long sleeves to
Cover the mess
In my pit of despair
Life’s not fair
I’ll never find happiness

Soon I will need more than
Long sleeves
To help me…

Saturday, October 27, 2007

Right to Die

The medicine stopped working
My body’s jerking
I fall to my knees begging folks
To let me be
I’m full of toxins
My pores are cesspools
Veins pumping contaminated
One cut and people would die from
The flood
There’s no cure
I’m a twitching mess
Beyond sending calls of distress

my time is borrowed
i’m in panic mode
a total nervous breakdown
bodily functions shutting down
following my manic episode
i hear voices-
for once they’re not in my head
somehow I’m chained to a bed
condescending words float above
and bounce off walls like my body
was before
i see a woman carrying a tray walking
through the door
it can’t be more vials and needles
what would be the purpose
why can’t they let my body expire
i’m so tired-
no need to prolong others suffering…

my eyes connect with hers and I think she
understands my plea
by tomorrow I will no longer be


i feel your resentment

here you are giving me your heart
while I slice select parts of mine to
offer in return

i told you i was no good-
not merely misunderstood
you wanted to prove me and the world
it was a cruel lesson to learn

you fell so deep down the well
i stride through shallow waters making
sure i don’t get too wet
but before you can drown
i cast out a safety net

it’s in my best interest

as long as you set out your bowl of cream
i’ll slink around allowing you to get lost in
your dreams
grip me too tight and I bite
loosen your hold and off I go
then you’re left alone crying about having a lover
so mean

anyway you choose, you lose

having a warm bed sometimes is better than
however, affections aren’t meant to be toyed with
when you see me walk out the door
you always wonder if we’ve had our last kiss…

Monday, October 1, 2007

That Place

That Place

i let it happen

his hands were like
silk across my untouched
so much warmth through his
a magic spark i felt when
he kissed my lips
the buttons became undone
i wanted myself to be set
into the grass, surrounded
by wildflowers
out in the field right next
to the oak tree

he entered me

i was confused by the strange
he turned from the sweetest man
into a stranger
i searched for compassion in his
eyes but all i could see was the
i was in
suddenly i didn't want this to
i cried out but received the
back of his hand
i was being pushed down into
the coldness of the land
closing my eyes i prayed for
this to end
i begged God for forgiveness
for participating in this

i brought it upon myself

soon, he raised his sweaty
body off of mine
i laid into the dirt as if i
had no spine
the look he shot me was of
pure disgust
i shot a look of my own of
total distrust
no words were exchanged
he went on his way
as the sun started to set
at that place is where i
continued to stay
casting my eyes at the darkening
i had to ask the stars "Why?"

why did i let him kiss me
why did i smile went he winked
at me
why did i skip school and get
into his car
why did i let things go so

momma won't understand my torn
the grownup smells i had and my
insides being a mess
ashamed i am for what was done
ashamed i am for what i have

that place, where the wildflowers
serenaded the big oak tree
that place that used to comfort me
that place where the honeysuckles
enticed the bees
that place now simply haunts me

that place...

Shaken, Not Stirred

I spend my days wandering
around an empty house
Closing window shades
keeping the sun from peeking inside
I’m so fidgety-
Straightening up tables and such
I don’t know what I’m waiting for
but someone is coming over

I’m a mess
I can’t get clean
My arms are a map of misery
Cuts, scratches and stabs
Burn marks and peeling scabs
I haven’t eaten in days
I have other things to think about

The doorbell rings;
it jars my senses
I’m half excited-half afraid
A little girl in search of her Teddy bear
The click of the lock makes me
Everyone knows I leave a key under the mat
When the door opens
I bow my head in silence

Tears flow down and I kind of know why
a hand lands on my shoulder
I feel the cold steel against my cheek
My time has come to pay

“Mike hasn’t come through with the money?”
I ask already knowing the answer
Making the job easier I lay face down on the
I could have ran, tried to escape
But having been abandoned
I’d rather just go ahead and

The Valium for the Doll AKA “I want the same doctor my mother had! Or do I?”

After my mother divorced the lying, cheating, abusive, yet loving and charming man that was my dad (RIP) and uprooting my brothers and I, it seemed that we were always in so much fucking trouble. I don’t remember half the shit I did at four years of age to garner the screaming I got, but it happened whenever mom would come home from work. She was a stressed out, still young woman raising four leeches, 3 of which were either a teen or soon becoming one. One paycheck to buy the shit we ate, the clothes for our backs, the medicine for our colds and the toys we cried and moaned about. That’s four birthdays and a bitter bitch of a Christmas every goddamned year. Now, I’m not saying that she was this Super Mom or better than Ms. Partridge as other women did/does the same thing. However, how she kept her sanity, not run out in the middle of the night leaving a box of cereal and big salad bowl on the kitchen table or slit our throats while we were sleeping is nothing short of a miracle.

About a year after settling in, my mother seemed to be able to get things under control as best she could. Oh, she’d threaten to beat us if we didn’t shut the fuck up while she was resting. She’d swear that the TV would be off limits if we didn’t quit turning the channel knob (oh these kids today don’t have the joy of having a coat hanger hanging out the TV where the antenna was. Do they even know what an antenna is?!) like we didn’t have any sense. And if we didn’t stop running in and out her damned door letting the flies in, well…let’s just say we had a cap on how many times that front door could open. Made you truly rethink whether you needed that glass of water or not. One more door slam and it was automatic house arrest. Good thing we had friends so we could alternate between houses for piss breaks.

Suddenly a transformation of sorts came about almost on a daily basis for my mom. She could come home on the brink of a nervous breakdown after busting her ass at work only to be met with selfish kids begging for money, go into her room and maybe 15 minutes later emerge from said room a Stepford Mom. The music was too loud? “That’s ok.” Jumping on top of the furniture? “Don’t bust your skull sweetie.” Could my friends Yvonne, Margaret, Angelica, (you get the picture) spend the night? “Whatever honey…” Wow, it was great! She’d just step over the chaos and head into the kitchen and fix herself a cup of coffee, humming. As kids, we didn’t know how the angry monster was tamed whenever she went into her room and we couldn’t give a shit. What ever worked was fine by us. Then we started growing up and having kids of our own. Oh karma, fuck you! I often praised her for raising the four of us and she’d just smile and maybe let out a small chuckle. After what had been the billionth time I mentioned her strength in raising my brothers and I, she finally gave up the Ancient Chinese Secret: Valium. My jaw dropped, she shrugged and went on about her day. Those days were long ago, so she could care less what I thought. Only thing was I wasn’t judging my mother, I was jealous!

In the heyday of the 50’s through the 80’s, doctors would prescribe pills at the drop of a hat, and from what I understood they gave out the real good shit. Placidyls, Qualudes, Percocets, Percodans…just about anything beginning with “Per” or ending with “Dan.” The beleaguered housewife/mother favorites were Valiums. These little babies would guarantee that mommy’s little rugrat could live another day after pouring milk all over the place. This magic pill kept a mother’s hands from choking her dumbass kid for the skateboard flying through the window after telling him not to skateboard in the house for the 10th time that day. Also, these pills act very quickly making every mom taking them happy little drowsy compliant robots. Mommy gets kids ready for school. Mommy goes to work. Mommy comes home to messy house and bad report cards. Mommy has some alone time with Valium. Mommy cooks dinner and goes to bed without committing homicide/suicide. Everybody’s a winner, right?

My general practitioner (in other words “I’m not a psychologist!”) won’t remotely play ball. “But I’m stressed, depressed, have a lot on my mind, blah, blah, blah…” doesn’t move him an inch. I complain about stress, he mentions jogging. I whine too much about depression, he starts looking through referrals for local therapists. When I asked him why he wouldn’t prescribe Valium for me instead of the bullshit garden-variety libido killing depression meds, he told me that doctors nowadays rarely if ever prescribe them anymore-they do their job too well. After giving him the Scooby-Doo look of confusion, he firmly told me that are highly addictive, and it’s damned hard kicking the habit. When I asked him if they were “I’ll suck your dick for $5.” addictive, he started riffling through his shrink referrals again. Dejected, I leave his office only to play the game with him every month. To be honest, I don’t really want to be hooked on them or any drug. Besides, last time I checked Raisenettes were still legal.

I don’t look at my mother any differently. I still praise her and admire her for what she’s sacrificed for us. She, like other people of the time were prescribed medicine that today’s doctors wouldn’t touch with a 10 foot pole. Sure, you have the movie stars; singers and other celebrities that somehow have an arsenal of medicine that would make Keith Richards sentimentally weep. These same people wind up on any number of “Weren’t you…” type of TV shows and also a slave to the pills. Ok, I’ll say it: junkies. Luckily my mother wasn’t using Valium for long, as she didn’t like her growing dependence on them. So how did she manage to raise us without killing us then? I have one precocious daughter and I want to cry “Uncle” sometimes and that just makes my mother laugh her ass off. Maybe knowing that one day the pain in the ass kids you have will have similar, if not more kids than you have brings enough tranquility. Or maybe it was pot. Whatever it was, Karma, you’re still a bitch.

Sunday, September 16, 2007


the chandelier fell to the ground
oh, it made such a magnificent
tiny crystals everywhere-
dancing in the debris caused many
cuts on me
i’m staring at the sores where i continue
to bleed
but i don’t care
i’m getting ready to go on a roller coaster ride
at the fair
flying high until the clouds kiss me
not thinking about the people below who swear
that they miss me
now gravity is taking its harsh effect
crashing down, i have no safety net
i am becoming a nervous wreck
thank God there were more crystals around
more dancing, more sharpness jabbing into my
back at the carnival, i’m inside a room that
many times the sun has come and left again
i’m being forced to leave the fun and games behind
the carnival owner told me i couldn’t afford any more
good times
violent images are flashing through my mind
i’m not too familiar with this strange place
i don’t remember any of these people’s faces
things seem to be so horribly wrong
i cry yet no one seems to hear my pleading
why am i being kept from the sky where i belong?
i keep hearing whispers about how lucky i am to be
my mom and dad are here, but they won’t offer me a
they just babble on about how my life is a precious gift
if only they could experience an ounce of the pain I’m dealing
closing my eyes, i can’t help but continue to cry
i share my tears with my family as i beg them to help me

Making Deals with the Grim Reaper

my troubles i try to keep to myself
i hate to drag others down
in the murky waters of my pain they might drown
so i self medicate in order to ease my mind
do not judge me, sometimes i'm my own worst enemy
so to the dives, the gutters and the "candy" houses i roam
staying home becomes hard and i start to go crazy
well meaning folks give sermons until i start to feel hazy;
their words harming my psyche instead of really saving me
the people i meet never really ask questions
i keep them guessing with every sip, every pill popped
memories fly by as my eyes flutter, i no longer suffer
warmth wraps me in a cocoon in the corner of a room
i lay in my spot, lazy smile creeping on my face
in the filthy surroundings i never feel out of place
when i come back to earth, those warm feelings are replaced
i dust myself off and return to my abode
back from my hours long vacation, my loved ones i'm now facing
they surround me, taking my space and making it heard to breathe
spitting out a bunch of "You need tos" making me want to leave
until i feel one of my young nephews tugging on my sleeve
i feel betrayed, but start crying when i hear what he had to say:
"Auntie, I love you. Please don't disappear anymore!"
i give him a hug, kiss his cheek then head for the door
my mind's racing, i grab my cellphone but don't know who to call
back into the night, i stalk the streets until the daylight
when will everyone learn that my battles are my own to fight

First Person Shooter

I find myself in a stand-off position
You’re trying to keep your wallet and taking it
is my mission
Use any cliché you want to validate my
You bypassing me on this street with your money?
Not a chance
My ribs are touching, my kid needs clothes and my
sister’s going to the clinic
Tears are streaming down your face
You’re trying to reason with me like I’m gonna
grant you 15 minutes
The look in your eye is defiant
Go ahead and try it
Please believe that I’m holding my nine
Who gives a fuck if you’ve been robbed before
After having dinner with your whore
Oh well, shit’s happening one more time
So now you’re holding something shiny
Hands shaky, your weapon is pointing at my
My hammer’s cocked, loaded and locked
When all is said and done, I’ll be the one heading
My out stretched hand is getting tired, man
Gimmie your shit and realise that you just got
Otherwise, fuck it, I’ll go ahead and buck it
Snatch your shit up anyway-just another dumb ass
That chose to get shot
See there you go, wise choice you tossing the
wallet and gun on the ground
Before I grab my prize, I look you in the eyes and
See there’s not another soul to be found…
Nothing personal, can’t leave any witnesses around.

Mental Gun to My Own Head

If I didn’t put all of my thoughts
my emotions
my heart on paper
I’d be like a lost soul
roaming around in search of
a savior
Like those guys walking around
mumbling incessantly to imaginary
Emptying their heads for days on end
I can’t go to sleep while my brain
continues our conversation
I become a midnight marauder
Only it’s my mind that partakes in the
Tales of sexuality, mental issues,
abuse in all kinds of forms
The ink coming from a never ending
supply of my life’s blood
My head a reservoir after all of my
At times it’s therapeutic,
sometimes I write to music
I have this fear that if every idea
I get isn’t copied the minute I get it
I’d lose it
I know what it’s like
to sit up night after night
Getting cramps in my hands
and crying because I’m too tired to
Taking something to zone out
Crawling into my bed
But something makes me get up
So I often pass out at my desk
In this ongoing battle
my body and brain each wants
My sanity is the prize
Consider this message an SOS from
my soul

Joy From the Pain of Others

i find happiness in a another person’s
their whimpers, their desperation, frustration
and fears
when all signs of hope have faded
when sadness lingers around
my smiles become evident-while everyone else
recovers from having their lives crashing
superiority fills me up-
if only for a moment
while others wonder where their joy in life
it’s selfish of me, that I’m fully aware
but something mean deep inside me simply choose
not to care
while my apathetic ways are widely known
i wonder
will someone just like me smirk when i have tears
of my own

Consequences after the Clock Struck Twelve

I deserved every strike and blow across my face
The stomping of the boots these kids were giving me
made my insides scream out
The kicking, the spitting and throwing trash all over
me made me vomit
But I refused to put up a fight
I opened my arms and welcomed the abuse like a long
lost son
One of the teens pissed on me and I willingly bathed in
the acrid smelling liquid
Soon one of the kids realized that I seemed to enjoy the pain
and summoned his crew to leave
“Sicko!” he yelled at me and gave me one last kick in the
back for good measure

I’m known for being the town kook; the one parents pulled their
children away from when they see me walking down the street
They pointed their fingers at me and gave me angry looks
At the time, I did nothing to garner such treatment
I always gave to the transients lying on the street; handing out
food only to have it thrown back at me-
They never throw the money back, but then again who would
I visited soup kitchens to help out but always got turned away
I could never find someone to play chess with me in the park
On Halloween, kids never visited my house for candy-
after awhile I stopped going to the store and buying it
No one wanted to have anything to do with me,
until one day I came across a man stumbling out of a bar

He was so handsome, and was actually smiling at me
I turned around because I just knew his attention wasn’t for me
He half walked, half stumbled over to me and asked me my name
“Rose” I answered and found myself blushing for the first time
in a long while
he told me his name was “Andrew” and threw his arm around me
Andrew told me that I was the prettiest girl he’d ever seen,
But I knew that it was the alcohol he’d drank that was talking
I asked him if he wanted a cab home, but he told me that he
didn’t want to go anywhere unless it was with me
I giggled, but he insisted, then gave me a hug and to feel his
warmth on me was like a slice of heaven; I couldn’t resist
I drove him back to my place so that I could receive more affection
I hadn’t had shown me in ages

We sat down on my couch and he wanted a little more to drink
I fixed him a Vodka Tonic and he was happy when I handed him the glass
I did most of the talking while he sipped and laughed
Then he pulled me close and placed a kiss on me that left me speechless
“You are so beautiful…” he kept repeating over and over like some kind
of mantra
A fire sparked inside of me that I though long extinguished
Still, I pulled away when he tried to kiss me again
“Maybe this wasn’t a good idea…” I started while pacing the floor
He grabbed my hand and told me that he didn’t want to be anywhere else
at the moment
I reminded him that he was drunk and not thinking clearly
“What if I brought you hear to do you harm?” I asked sheepishly
He laughed it off and grabbed me and I landed in his lap; we kissed again
Soon, we made our way to my bedroom

He took off his clothes and threw them in a heap on the floor
I hesitantly started shedding some articles before cutting off the light
“Why are you hiding yourself?” he asked, before reminding me how
beautiful I was again
Once more, I told him that we should not continue
I apologized but his demeanor changed and he became impatient
I knew what was happening was wrong, but that sexual need I had
went unheeded for so long that I couldn’t stop it even if I wanted to
Andrew forgot about the lights as he entered me, kissing my neck and
running his fingers through my hair
His skin felt like silken gold against mine as he clutched my hands just
as we both neared climax
I literally had tears of joy as Andrew lied down next to me and fell asleep
in my arms
I finally felt like the luckiest woman in the world

The morning brought forth a familiar coldness as Andrew pushed me
out of bed
He demanded to know what those sores I had on my arms and legs
were from, but before I could explain he slapped me hard, knocking me
Blood trickled from the side of my mouth
He then went to my medicine cabinet and found the many pill bottles I had
Before he could come at me again, I locked the door to my room and
threatened to call the police
Andrew called me such filthy names before accusing me of trying to kill
him; that hurt me to my core
I heard a few things crash in my livingroom before Andrew slammed the
I tried to warn him, albeit feebly
We both were foolish but it is I who should shoulder most of the blame

So there I was, lying in pain on the ground in an alley where mice were scampering
past my face
Every since that night about a week ago, everywhere I went I heard more whispers
than I normally did
Eyes that watched me like a hawk before burned even harsher into my fragile skin
The fingers pointing at me doubled and when I walked past the bar Andrew came
out of the owner spotted me through the window and slammed the door shut
One particular day that I decided to take a short cut home from the local store
a bunch of kids surrounded me, calling me things Andrew did that night
Were some of them his relatives, maybe a younger brother or cousin perhaps
They began taunting me, yet no one came to my defense
There were people in the street, but they turned their backs to me and shunned
me, leaving me helpless
I tried to run, but there were too many and I soon found myself trapped in the alley
The first kid had sandy hair like Andrew and he shot the first punch that knocked
me down in a heap
Then the kicking and spitting followed, but I never put up a fight
Only after the vicious onslaught did I allow myself to cry
I laid on the ground until the sun made its way west and not a soul came to my

When I was well enough to move, it was then when I decided to flush all the AIDS medication in my medicine cabinet out
I was in so much pain, but I never called my doctor or the police
I haven’t eaten nor drank in three days as I began to feel weak, lying in all my filth
Each time I pass out I wonder it if will be the last time my eyes will see the ceiling
Hopefully God will prove merciful and not allow me to wake up the next time I fall


i was heading home just the other day
but somehow i seemed to lose my way
i had left from a most beautiful place
there was this woman with a luminous face
she smiled and told me to not be a stranger
she didn't want me to go, told me that life was
full of danger
why was i leaving her all alone
when she was providing me with a wonderful home
all the gifts a person could ever own
i had to admit i was missing the love i was shown
that's why i left behind breadcrumbs

as soon as i went back to her loving arms
i became a slave to her luxurious charms
all alone just the two of us amongst the stars
everywhere she went i was never that far
behind her
although some have said that i've been blinded
by her
if my eyes are truly closed then i don't want to see
it's hard to describe how excited she makes me
and i know this isn't supposed to be my reality
so when i have a rare moment of clarity
i try to leave, then a wave of uncertainty overcomes me
and i feel numb
then i'm scrambling looking for those breadcrumbs

lately she has started showing me her jealous ways
punishing my attempts at independence for many days
turning her back on me so that i could feel the coldness
laughing as i crumble at her feet rendering me quite useless
how could such a loving lady become a bitter mistress
just because my true home had been left behind
and i had to take care of things as i haven't been there for
a long time
i head out into the world determined to never return
then i start shaking, running back only to get burned
this is an eternal lesson for me to learn
i'll always be looking for those breadcrumbs...

Even the Darkest Night is followed by a New Day

i'll never forget the night i was sitting
on the side of my bed
praying real hard while holding a loaded gun to my head
i've done enough crying, and wishing my struggles away
only to be hit with the same shit the next
my boss was on my ass on a daily basis
saying that he had enough with all the lateness
told me to get out of his face whining about my asthmatic
child, he reminded me that my problems were all my own
not one ounce of sympathy shown, so many evenings i had to
leave my ten year old alone at home
placing a loaf of bread on the counter, a couple slices of
lunch meat to eat in the fridge, so much for taking care of
my kid
reminding her not to answer the phone, open the front door
and to finish her chores after a ton of homework
i barely spend time with her after i leave work, the tv being
a babysitter
i'd give anything to be able to spend more time with her
but feeling myself falling apart with the weight of the world
on my shoulders
i wanted to blow my brains out, and not deal with the world being
my finger on the trigger, about to cock and blast
my sweet little angel popped in my room, i had to stash the gun
away fast
looking into her sleepy eyes, my most cherished prize
it gave me the spark to change my whole way of thinking
life may not be full of joys, but i wasn't on a boat sinking
i kissed my princess, then tucked her back in her bed
then i fell to my knees, said another prayer with no tears shed
thanking God my child didn't find me in a pool of blood

I Need to Use You

I know our relationship
is supposed to be give
and take
But today, baby it can’t be the same-
not even for our love’s sake
There’s so much shit going on
that it’s hard to explain
You’ll want to come over and
But all I’ll feel is drained
Don’t worry-I want you around
There are things that you can do
This may sound cold and harsh
I need to use you

Please don’t question my needs
or try to fix what’s in my
I’m in selfish mode right now
Just comply with my wishes instead
Lay me down and caress me
Tell me things will be ok-
lie if you must
That’s all the words that need to be
You’re here strictly for lust
Sorry I can’t help you right now
I know you had a fucked up day
All those troubles will have to wait
When you come, I will use you

My body is yours-you know what
it needs
I close my eyes and anticipate
Your hands, your lips, your mouth,
and dick
I need release; it’s so hard to wait
Skin on skin; sweat dripping all
Make me scream so that I can
I had to take you for granted this one
little night
Please know that I do love you
I’ll understand the day you’ll
need to use me back


Now I know what I am
Not yet who
but just what
It’s not my fault
but the damage is done
There is no cure
no matter what I’ve been
Denial is a Band-Aid
that keeps slipping
Words are not too strong
a medicine
It is a cure
It is a strength
I’m still not too sure
The calculation will

A Passage in Her Journal

the sky had a 2:1 ratio of
blue over black for now
'One Way' signs seemed to
be on every other block
a familiar car glides to
the same beat of the girl's
she's been followed for the
past five minutes or so

the windows were tinted so
dark; she was surprised the
driver never got a ticket
like a dog seeking a master
the vehicle took turns rolling
behind her
as well as next to her
but it never went ahead

any other day, she would
have been annoyed and told
the driver to "Fuck Off!"
while running away-
that's ironic
today she was running away to
flee her troubles at home
her duffel bag with a pink
teddy bear's head sticking
out started to get heavy
but she was doing fine until
that car showed up

on impulse she stopped and the
car stopped as well
she nearly touched the door
handle but thought twice
the shiny chrome was getting
dimmer as the night was
banishing the day to a far away
a street light flashed but she
was barely able to make out a
the driver never moved from his
sitting position

she started to walk backwards
keeping her eye on the car-
it never moved an inch
she couldn't tell if the driver
was looking at her from the rear
view mirror or was about to exit
the motorized lodging
all she knew was the trace of
temptation to investigate was
replaced by a gut reaction to
return home
that flash of heat that shot down
her chest towards her inner thighs
earlier turned cold

suddenly the problems at home became
more trivial as she retraced her steps
back to her safe haven
the car remained in it's spot and she
wondered if it would find her again
should she decide a week's punishment
was too much to bear

maybe she was as spoiled as everyone said...

A March Drive-by

we sat on my couch sipping
on raspberry rum
the sweet burn making my mouth scorch
while the heat of the liquor going down
made me glisten with sweat
i turned my head towards my shy
date and realized that we were gonna
get it on
“Drink up!” i teased, and grinned as his
body started to loosen up after draining the rum
his hand landed on my thigh and he blushed-
but he never removed that hand

i swooped in with a kiss that nearly made him
drop his glass
he fumbled to place the glass on the table and
i couldn’t give a shit if it made it there or not
my heaving chest was begging for his hands
to go there-to reach under the shirt, dammit and
let those sensitive tits free from the restraining bra
he took a swig out of my glass then complied as the trace
of rum in his mouth had my nipples like pencil erasers
my hands went to his crotch and was i ever surprised
to grab a more than a handful of hard dick instead of jeans;
the turtle was taking the lead in this race now

gone were the clothes as i poured the liquor on his
chest and let my tongue follow suit past his “Happy
Trail” and towards the throb
i appreciated the grooming as my head went up and down
like a merry-go-round horse as a slew of Oh shit!s and Damn!s
flew out of his mouth
he grabbed my ass and messaged it as his hips kept bucking
he soon flipped the script and had my thighs around his ears
as he had me calling the Lord, God, Jehovah, Hayah or Jesus
i didn’t have to direct traffic as he knew his way around
downtown; taking slow turns and dipping in and out of tunnels
he had me at turned out status before reaching for the Trojan
Magnums in his wallet and walking towards my room
i did a little dance and clapped softly before following-
he wasn’t fronting as he needed those Magnums…

that liquor made old braveheart lay on his back with his hands
clasped behind his head-i climbed on top and my walls were gripping
for traction as i didn’t want to be impaled
he challenged me with a “C’mon, now!” and that’s when i took it like
a champ and got to riding the dick like i was trying to make it to work
he was trying to wreck the infrastructure, but kitty wasn’t a punk
then he lifted me up and had me on my knees as his balls were playing
slap boxing with my ass
my face in the pillow biting and screaming into it like the bed banging
around wasn’t going to have the neighbors complaining
his grip on my hips tightened and he quickened his pumping and before
long we both didn’t want to see the spazzed looks in each other’s faces
as we came hard, me for the second time

he was granted an overnight stay, with a sausage, grits, cheese eggs, toast and
the sports section of the paper breakfast
he might have walked in a lamb, but he came out a lion

Survive the Night

Something in the wind gives me a
I turn over to my baby and he’s sleeping
Walking over to close the window gave me a
This just may be the end of us
He’s laying on his back with a peaceful
I cowardly write a note detailing about my need
for space
As I slide in my jeans to take off into the
The end is near; I’d like to avoid a nasty
I have my reasons for letting him go
Even when I was telling the truth when I told him
I loved him so
My fear of commitment made me
ponder until the daylight
I snuggle next to his warm body
We survived another night…


I’m nothing more than a glorified hooker. I just spent the last 15 minutes blowing my married “boyfriend” in his car, which was parked in an abandoned warehouse parking lot. I even supplied the tissues and tossed them out the car while he sat back grinning like a Cheshire cat. He had the nerve to stroke my hair and the look of venom I shot him froze that shit up. He knew I was pissed because today was the day we were supposed to go out for the first time. He swore that he was too paranoid to take me someplace nice. “Why can’t we go somewhere way out of town?” I’d insist, but he’d never answer. Of course when he called me, I could tell by the way he was hemming and hawing that dinner wasn’t going to happen. “I don’t have that much time to spend with you today…” he began and I knew what was up. “I guess you’re my trick again.” I snapped just to make him feel like the piece of shit he was. He began mumbling about feelings and I had to cut him off: “Please don’t. Just have my money like you promised and don’t give me any bullshit about forgetting your ATM card neither!” I hung up the phone on his ass.

As usual, he picks me up at the local mall not far from his job. I want to laugh when I see his wrinkly, balding ass coming to swoop me up in his black convertible. “You’re just a sexy motherfucker, ain’t you?” I always ask and that just tickles him to death. It makes me want to vomit since he actually believes this shit. He’s just a sight, wearing shades with the few hairs he does have on his head combed over—sometimes, just to mess with him I flick my fingers through the sparse bird’s nest just to make him whine. “Why don’t you just shave that shit off?” I once blurted out and hurt his feelings. I had to smooth things over (as well as his 5 strands of hair) that day to make him happy. At least one of us was happy that day.

Whenever I get home from our “outings” I wash him off of me and just stare into the mirror. “What are you doing?” I ask myself always, and then I lapse into denial about him being my ‘Mr. Right Now’ until the real thing comes along. Then I get on the phone and laugh it up with my girlfriends about him never lasting more than 90 seconds and how he tricked me off that day. “Girl…I wish I had an old man like that…” one out the group would usually say while the other would echo her sentiments. I roll my eyes every time because each one of those heifers actually has someone. None of them have to hike up their skirts and get fucked like a dog in a parked car or in some skeevy motel with hourly rates. None of them are alone on Valentine’s Day. And none of them have to curl up to cold gift cards and cash to keep them warm at night. They’re the lucky ones and don’t even know it.

Yea I know…why do I do this to myself? Why don’t I tell him to go to hell and end this shit? I dunno…I’ve become ice cold and have hardened myself since fooling with this man for the past two years. I went from “I’ll have my fun for a little while…” to “He’s all I have.” I’ve developed a prostitute’s mindset and that frightens me. I don’t know how to be affectionate. I wouldn’t know how to react if a kind man happened to approach me—I’d probably tell the ‘loser’ to fuck off. Without a fist full of 20’s in his hand he would be wasting my motherfucking time. I don’t even get a chill shooting down my spine for thinking that way anymore. I’m damaged goods.

So, as I become more lazy and stagnant in my situation, I can’t ask anyone to feel sorry for me. This man has a wife and 3 kids at home, and one away at college. I can’t think about them though. As long as I continue to leave red lipstick rings around his dick and whoop and holler for our 1-½ minutes in the sack, I’ll be ok. Well, that is until he gets tired of me; then I’ll be on the lookout for another sugardaddy.

Hiding Out

no one knows how
to approach me
have i been crying
am i in pain
no one understands
no clues will i give
i make people play
a sad guessing game
as i sink further into
i recon I only have myself
to blame

at times i peek from my
lonely spot
maybe my eyes will give
away my secrets
as footsteps head into my
i disappear-
i’m not ready to be found
this mental cat and mouse
game i play betting against
just might make me regret…


My days are numbered
I wait and close my eyes
The winds are still; died
Ravenous vultures circle the skies
the sun is starting to set
Clouds are roaming fast and free
Birds make their ways to barren
high upon leafless trees
The stars are staring downward
The moon-a witness to all
My final steps await me
I have risen-now I shall

Monday, August 27, 2007

I Like Feeling Sleepy

the world is moving very slowly
waves of comfort protect me from
when people talk it's like
"blah, blah, blah"
my eye lids weigh 1000 pounds-
i reach for the cup again

there's a bond between my bed and
a dopey grin stretches my lips
my brain is playing the sweetest
i can't hold a decent conversation-
yet i take another sip

a waking feeling is sinking in
i panic-my day is getting too damned
my nerve endings are coming back full
a moment of clarity
an obvious solution
time to bid the world goodnight


fragile like an egg
the armor made of shell
It cracks at the slightest touch
Pieces of my mind
scattered all over the ground
I didn't think I'd need it so
I try to form words
simple syllables fail me
My expressionless face conveys lack of
Little dots of blue
usually linked with sadness
But it's my happiest of hues
The lights in my eyes ablaze with some
I smile
at the children are playing games outside
I laugh
The sun has pushed the bullying clouds
I leave
my claustrophobic home filled with those
little dots of blue behind
I lose
the newly found pieces of my mind

The shell has cracked
The irritable alter ego has come back
and the doors are locked it seems forever
The little dots of blue
a necessity for the irrational psyche
Gold is worthless metal compared to this
mental treasure
I smile
The angry giant is falling fast asleep
I drift
The remnants of regret is hidden deep
I dream
of pretty snowflakes of white so pure
I wake up
and realize that there is no cure

Hurts To Be Your Friend

It was your idea to keep everything
platonic between us
I wanted so much more
but all you wanted was her
To witness the love you have
for this other woman
brings so much hate into my
I'm only human
That fateful night
when you looked into my eyes
and words were not necessary
But then you gave me a kiss
and said it wasn't meant to be
It hurts to this day
but there's no way I can pretend
My heart doesn’t want to let

When you see me and you have her
by the hand
Try to understand how it will hurt
to be your friend


I saw her in the rain-
just standing there
as if a bus was coming
This wasn’t a commercial
This cul-de-sac was quiet;
pleasant trees and shrubs
She stood out like an
yet still sore thumb
She turned around and
caught my gaze
I blushed like a little boy
Could she see the lust in
my eyes
Oh how I wanted to caress
her face
Smell her long brown hair
Feel the fabric that was
pinned down by water drops
all over her beautiful body
Maybe take her hand in mine
Nothing too overt
I liked the way my heart
was racing
How alive I felt when she
smiled at me
I was happy that she didn’t
think I was some pervert
out to take advantage of her
Then a car pulled up;
her chariot had arrived
She waved ‘Goodbye’ to me
and then she was gone
my bones remembered that
they ached
The steadiness of my hands
gave way to a familiar
If I see her tomorrow
I’ll work up the courage
to ask her if she’d like to
go for a walk


Caramel in the heat
Waltzing down hot city streets
So sweet
Sugar Babies tempt and taunt
Making men want
Mercilessly haunting until eyes
are transfixed
Licking of lips and desiring of a
Sugar Babies trick
Much laughter when hearing what
men are after
They may be sweet but they aren’t
Sugar Babies entice and if the price
is right
Sweetness may be in your life-
but only for one night
Your continued need isn’t their
It is now daylight
Sugar Babies must hit those streets
Dazzling more with their tempting

Tuesday, August 21, 2007

In Awe of Him Despite His Way

he's a dog-
and he revels in it
his stories of fooling the
easily fooled women in his
life make me laugh
thank God i'm a relative
and not his next victim
the tales run from
fairly tame to graphic
he's a misogynist
yet i'm drawn in
and want to be around
am i learning how a
snake thinks
am i gaining knowledge
to prevent becoming
someone's naive girl
i'm not sure-
it's entertaining listening to
his braggadocio
i keep getting tempted to
cry on his shoulders about
a lover who has done me
could i expect comfort from
or be reminded that it's all
part of the game

Drama Queen in an Empty Palace

Self pity
to say that my days
are a miserable shade of gray
is an understatement...
to my dismay

staring into my four corners of doom
my eyes so glassy inside my barren room
banging and beating the walls with my head
painting a mosaic of disturbing red
my mind is racing at a frantic pace
wondering how i landed in such a horrible place
hallucinating for hours on end
now is when the fun begins...

Morbid thoughts
i give up
i don't want to try anymore
everything hurts-
i'm tired of being sore
no more pain
all of my troubles would leave
just by closing my eyes
and refusing to breathe

False Rise of the Phoenix
is that a flicker of hope
dancing in front of me
barely within my reach
but what a joy to see
such a long time in denial
about needing to be saved
could this be the miracle-
the ending to my darkest days
alas it's only a dream-
a fairytale fast drifting away

To be continued...


I’m back to my pitiful ways
hiding in the shadows for days
Watching normal folks talking long
While I perch on garbage cans having
long talks
with myself
this is a postcard of my mental health
facilities and hospitals I go through their
revolving doors
After a two day stay I’m not allowed back
My aunt is tired of officers dropping me off
at her house
Sometimes I sleep around in order to crash
on people’s couches
Subways are mainstays
My pets are rats and pigeons with wings clipped
by brats
On sunny days I’m on display at the park
like some fucked up urban exhibit
“See, looks what happens when you don’t go to
The mom drops a dollar in my paper coffee cup
but junior sees me hold my middle finger up
I flash my lurid smile
To his mother’s side runs the frightened child
When my liquid medicine runs out
I find another place to stay:
Yet another pissy alleyway
Hiding in the shadows for a few more
until society decides that I’m a menace


I know he’s tired of me
I’m just his emotional bag lady
Always full of gloom and doom
Always bring his spirits down
Everytime I call his name
in my sleep, his ears burn
Whenever I see him, he looks at
me with disdain

When we were kids, we joked about
getting married someday
However that was when he “loved” me
I guess my self-pity
threatened to devour us both
I told him that I knew his
feelings for me were faltering
He said that I was just being
insecure as usual

I tried to give him sex
to let him know that I existed
This childish stunt has failed
me miserably; his eyes have lost their
A caged bird reminds me whenever
he and I are alone
I supposed it is time for me
to let him

Monday's Child

red bruise, new bruise
it happens every day
everyday the same news
in any kind of way:
"who hurt your leg?"
his mother asked
the one she'd broken
now hung in a cast
he looked at the doctor
and let out a sigh
"I did, mommy."
was his innocent reply
five weeks later, three more burns
it was an important lesson
to learn
"remember, you didn't
get those marks from me.
You got them when
you fell out of the tree."
One hit too many
he fell on the kitchen tile
No more excuses to make-
that was the end of
Monday's Child

Permission to Cry

I want to cry…

I am having a shitty day today, but this wonderful man is coming over to see me. He thinks I’m funny and cute and we talk all the time on the phone. We joke around and we never run out of things to say. Kisses are blown through the phone before we hang-up.

I need to cry…

Just about anything that could go wrong today did. From a can of soda spilt on my freshly mopped floor, to my child giving me attitude when I questioned her about her report card. I took away her privileges to make her concentrate more and now I feel like a bad mom. She’s in bed early for misbehaving and in a few hours, this bubbly, warm and patient man is coming to see me for a few fleeting moments just to see how I am.

I’m trying not to cry…

The last thing I want to do is appear to be this needy, baggage carrying lady. How can I open the door and before I can say Hello tears start streaming down my face? Who needs that? People have problems of their own and the thought of having wet shoulders from the sobbing isn’t attractive. Maybe he will think that the giggly part of me is some façade to hide some deep issues. Sure, there are days when I don’t want to get out of bed, but everyone have days like that once in awhile. How do I reassure him that I won’t run to him for every little thing that happens?

I just won’t cry.

Sunday, August 19, 2007

Allergic to Latex

I knew it was wrong
but it’s too late to turn
The sex wasn’t too
I’m trying to relax
I hope his eyes didn’t
when he explained his
Clothes were coming off
We were moving way too
My brain was pissed at my
How could she let rawness be
inside her
The passion was overflowing
My legs wrapped around his torso
not letting go
I didn’t want to think about
Drowning in the lust
Exploding when he bust
I know life isn’t about taking stupid
as we lay together naked
legs intertwined
I’m searching for peace of
What will happen to us
Do we continue to play with
Get lost in desire
use common sense next time


The softness of water
So slick
Manipulated with fingertips
A sensual sand
Guided by hand
Eyes open by the surprise
Of heat in between
water flowing on neck
and creating ripples
into a valley on the chest
stimulating nipples
gravity pulling water
in streams around the
so inviting one dares take a
tripping on a high like no
water quenches the fire
and bellies desire of
shimmering down legs like
a storm
around the feet
a sexy treat as a puddle is
from head to toe
a luscious crawl
dripping so slow

Can't Do This Anymore

Can't Do This Anymore

shut up and listen:

more imposed guilt
means more of a
defense wall built
don't you understand
that constantly flinging
accusations my way is
like expecting flowers to
grow from sand
it makes no sense
your emotional strangulation
is relentless
and this makes me angry;
you're expecting a
rekindled love
while i'm trying to avoid
you and your mental mess
it all adds up to stress
a thing i try to do without
you tell me you want us
back together
but why have a relationship
filled with doubt?


no more talk of a lost year
take all of your costly tears
and let them fill an ocean
for you to set sail
you're turning me into an enabler;
thinking being in my arms is
good, but things won't be well
must we cry on the phone?
just because you don't want to be
now it's i who has a heart of stone?
if that's the case
i'll be the bad guy
here's the kiss to say goodbye:
if you come around, i won't be home

in other words, it's time to move on

Only Detours and Exits

I am at peace with what I’m doing
A life of comfort is one that I’m pursuing
No more struggling, my pockets were strained
Not a bit of help from family, no ties
I get sideway glances
I take many chances
I drown out each and every “How can you?”
I’m already damaged
Jaded beyond all recognition
Blinded to all except intense ambition
A need to succeed and attain my dreams
I’m no longer bothered by judgmental people and their
eye beams
Love is a complication for my occupation
No excuses for the amount of mouths to feed
I have just myself, along with all of my needs
There are no rosy pictures about my station in life
There’s no turning back for choosing to be a ho
and not a wife
A high-rise on the Upper East Side is what I call
Lying next to designer tags and my checkbook when
I feel all alone
Then I get a ring on my phone, another client needing
my attention
I’m on call 24/7, no holidays, sick days and mainly working
Yea, at times when I look into the mirror many tears flow
I even have some regrets about putting a price on my soul
At the age of 32, I’ve had almost 20 years under my belt
I won’t be making any life changes; I don’t have that much time

Tuesday, August 14, 2007

I Have my Moments of Lucidity

Throughout my darkened ways
the many tears I’ve cried
I’ve waxed poetic about my last days
on earth
But in all honesty, I really don’t
want to die
I have no right to complain,
my problems are merely a few
Sometimes I magnify the amount of
pain I feel
not recognizing the atrocities others go

Genocide, females forcefully circumcised, homelessness
Disease bringing Third World Countries to their
Holes in the ozone layer have me wondering if any of my
descendants will have answers to their prayers
The ‘War On Drugs’ is nothing but a joke that’s not
We could be a nation of junkies if the government could
make some money
For the record, I support our troops keeping me and mine
but where’s the WMDs?
How many more of our guys have to bleed or die?
Bring them home or admit that their mission isn’t to find Bin Laden-
It’s more a suicide

There’s so much more to decry, but I have my own burdens
Call me introspective or selfish, but I feel helpless as I am but one
And like many I crawl back inside my little pity hut
I leave long enough to vote, then scamper back home and slam the
door shut
Peeking out of my windows as the world passes me by
Falling back into depression, or is it personal regression?
I need to pop a little pill as I obsess over that question…


Too addicted to the
feel good now
No room for just the
This type of tragedy
happens everywhere
In each walk of life-
in every neighborhood
Filled up on garbage
sweetened just to taste
Our children's nutritional
consist of toxic waste
TV, radio, audio, video
Sex, violence, drugs
Parents feel too much
Teachers never get much
Such a cycle of failure

Baby got it bad

i’m aching all over
can’t get warm
too many tears spilling
on bed sheets
im in the eye of the
the phone refuses to
my cigarette is burning
in the ashtray
my world is falling apart-
i didn’t get my fix

i can’t get it together
i’ve taken too many
aspirins within an
a glass of scotch is
glued to my right hand
i haven’t eaten in two
i need a long hot shower-
fixing the mess which is
requires so much power

this state im in
makes me want to
peel my
love and/or drugs
i’m crippled by my


can’t you see
don’t you know that
he isn’t the one
i am
move past his perfect hair
i am the one who holds
collect your tears on my
clean the wounds of your
battered ego
you’re not
or worthless
you are a prize
he cheats
and never give
you are too precious
as we sit on the bed
my hands cradling
your crying face
why can’t you feel
my love
yet I’m the one
the lowly friend
he doesn’t realize
the extra life he ruins
by hurting

The Fall of Whimsy

on a tuesday
at a bookstore
my eyes feasted on the
self help, cooking for 1
marriage for dummies
a hand brushed against mine
soft voice apologized
but i didn't mind
my smile betrayed the
loneliness i kept prisoner
the eyes that greeted me went
blank; i felt foolish
my head hung low
as i made my exit
footsteps approached, then
turning around was something
i refused to do

Monday, August 13, 2007

It's the Little Things...That Get Me Down

waking up is a chore
my day is all mapped out
life's becoming a bore
not much to be happy about
suffering is my job
the only thing i can do really
getting less scared of dying
i'm already living in my own
it's getting harder to breathe
i can feel my ulcer growing
another five gray hairs
i can't keep my frustration from
no need to cry anymore
it got too tiresome to do
so i sit and i sulk
it's not like my life's going to
the cycle will never end
until my eyes can open no more
sleep is a short reprieve
from what life has in store
waking up is a chore...


The world is changing every day, I
don’t like it much at all
Frantic people running nowhere fast
trample me when I fall
Not one hand reaches out to me
Such an ironic way to die
Then I wake up from my horrid dream-
the future makes me want to cry
Gadgetheads try to convince me
that it is time for me to conform
It’s such a shock to find out that
the way I was living my life was so far
from the norm
Children laugh at my archaic ways
Gloom and doom on the news spells
the end of my days
The many pills I take keeps me off the
despite my inching closer to the ledge
A sea of people wants me to dive
With so much against me it hard to decide
I make my leap and the last thing that I
are entertained people who clap and cheer
my suicide

Permission to Cry

I want to cry…

I am having a shitty day today, but this wonderful man is coming over to see me. He thinks I’m funny and cute and we talk all the time on the phone. We joke around and we never run out of things to say. Kisses are blown through the phone before we hang-up.

I need to cry…

Just about anything that could go wrong today did. From a can of soda spilt on my freshly mopped floor, to my child giving me attitude when I questioned her about her report card. I took away her privileges to make her concentrate more and now I feel like a bad mom. She’s in bed early for misbehaving and in a few hours, this bubbly, warm and patient man is coming to see me for a few fleeting moments just to see how I am.

I’m trying not to cry…

The last thing I want to do is appear to be this needy, baggage carrying lady. How can I open the door and before I can say Hello tears start streaming down my face? Who needs that? People have problems of their own and the thought of having wet shoulders from the sobbing isn’t attractive. Maybe he will think that the giggly part of me is some façade to hide some deep issues. Sure, there are days when I don’t want to get out of bed, but everyone have days like that once in awhile. How do I reassure him that I won’t run to him for every little thing that happens?

I just won’t cry.

Diamonds and Rhinestones

Fake words
from fake people
Seeing them walk around
trying to fool others
with their fake smiles and laughter
Pretending to be interested
makes me sick

These fake people copulate
and have fake children
Threatening to over populate
an already congested world in
desperate need of an
enema real quick

It angers me when the
few real people left become
Befriending these imitation
Pleading their cases for acceptance

If I could I would
all those stupid real people and the
and put them on an island
Hopefully they would destroy
each other by chance

Until then
I’ll surround myself with
real gems
who understand how frustrated
I get as well as understand how I

It’s not easy picking diamonds
out from the rhinestones
You have to get burned before
developing a jeweler’s experience
of being able to separate the fake ones
from the real


I saw her in the rain-
just standing there
as if a bus was coming
This wasn’t a commercial
This cul-de-sac was quiet;
pleasant trees and shrubs
She stood out like an
yet still sore thumb
She turned around and
caught my gaze
I blushed like a little boy
Could she see the lust in
my eyes
Oh how I wanted to caress
her face
Smell her long brown hair
Feel the fabric that was
pinned down by water drops
all over her beautiful body
Maybe take her hand in mine
Nothing too overt
I liked the way my heart
was racing
How alive I felt when she
smiled at me
I was happy that she didn’t
think I was some pervert
out to take advantage of her
Then a car pulled up;
her chariot had arrived
She waved ‘Goodbye’ to me
and then she was gone
my bones remembered that
they ached
The steadiness of my hands
gave way to a familiar
If I see her tomorrow
I’ll work up the courage
to ask her if she’d like to
go for a walk

Agnostic Me

despite what you may think
i have my own personal relationship
with God
no i do not go to any one of his
conveniently placed houses of worship
but i know that He hears me
and it's not only when i call on Him
when i'm feeling at my lowest point
it's not only when i call on Him to
watch over my loved ones
i can sit on my bed and start dialogue
at anytime day or night just when i want
to feel His presence
so keep your theories about me being confused
to yourselves
i don't need to choose a certain path in order
to show Him my love and devotion
and what gives you the right to dictate where
my soul will go when i've breathed my last
i want to listen in on the other end of this
"special" line you have to God while he dictates His
will as you've ordained yourself His personal secretary
He created us all in his image so just as He can
tell who has Him in their hearts and who truly
believe in His work
God also has the ability to refuse entrance into
His Kingdom the false prophets who spread His word
while breaking The Commandments
it isn't i who need to be reminded-maybe it is

Dark Solitude

Dark Solitude

A crack in the sky
Lightning racing across the
Lights flickering
I grab my candles
Cutting off the electricity
and humming to myself
Earlier I demanded to be left
and I got my wish at the
wrong time

I reach for my cell
my fingers dialing your
I get a recording and
hang up-
I left a message already today
I want you to hold me
Rock with me on the rug
back and fourth
Taking my mind off the
thunder claps

Soon the storm blows over
The rain merely a spritz
The phone chimes and I catch
the first ring
I needed to hear your voice
To tell you that our argument
was foolish
We could be making love in
twenty minutes
Feeling you inside of me would
make me forget the names you
called me
I would ask you to forgive me for
my own ugly words

A familiar voice on the other side;
it wasn’t you, but someone dear
told me to pour myself a drink
It was our friend Patti who hooked
us up
I started to babble about our stupid
She told me to shut up and drink,
fighting back tears
Immediately I felt hollow inside
I didn’t want Patti to continue
Tuning her out best I could, only
the words swerve, accident, tree and a
weepy “I’m so sorry, Bella!”

I cut the lights off again,
lighting candles while I cry
Ignoring the phone and knocks at
the door
I don’t want others to hold me
To tell me that everything was going
to be alright
From you
I knew that it was true
From everyone else
it’s all just pleasant lies to ease a pain
I refuse to let heal

Allergic to Latex

Allergic to latex

I knew it was wrong
but it’s too late to turn
The sex wasn’t too
I’m trying to relax
I hope his eyes didn’t
when he explained his
Clothes were coming off
We were moving way too
My brain was pissed at my
How could she let rawness be
inside her
The passion was overflowing
My legs wrapped around his torso
not letting go
I didn’t want to think about
Drowning in the lust
Exploding when he bust
I know life isn’t about taking stupid
as we lay together naked
legs intertwined
I’m searching for peace of
What will happen to us
Do we continue to play with
Get lost in desire
use common sense next time

The Jena Six

This is harrowing, disgusting yet real. Do something about it people!

Saturday, July 7, 2007

A Trainwreck

A Trainwreck

i have naivite in my heart
but old enough to know better
from a magazine rack full of issues
down to words on tear stained letters
too lazy to change
i leave everything to fate
then start grasping at straws
as my world crumbles under the weight

of disaray

same old shit everyday
i try to explain myself to you
but i don't have the right things
to say
you look at me and see a diamond
in the rough
i look in the mirror-
can't stop wincing at the picture
and see a woman going through too much


and your compassion will never be enough
i throw pity parties and send mass invites
then wonder why people run out on me left
and right
a part of me hopes you'll never see the light
i don't want to lose you
so i throw emotional darts to confuse you
willfully exchanging sex for love
to mask the fact that i mentally abuse


yes, i'm afraid that is true
so now that you've seen my hand
ask yourself if this option is for you:
stick around for the sex
and hope that things will get better
knowing all about the issues
and the many tear stained letters

Friday, July 6, 2007


fading away
not feeling like much
traveling with the
mobility with a breeze's
passing by others with
problems just trying to stay
knowing i'd be a zombie
too if i had remain
This is a test from yet another phonezoo

Tuesday, March 27, 2007