I'm pissed because I know he's with her and he didn't even say goodbye...

Really?!?

Well ain't this some shit for ya. I thought fucking with you was supposed to have me spent, weak, wrecked and ravaged. I thought I would have wounds so deep, the return of Moses would be needed to close my red seas. My heart would Humpty and horses, donkeys, soldiers and cowards could search over that wall endlessly and there would still be pieces of me to be found.   I walked through that door expecting wet kisses, trembling thighs and looking like Kim at the end of her 9 and half weeks. Instead I'm four and half years in and I'm dealing with the fact that you have fallen in love with my mind which makes hard for you to possess my body when I need you be the demon inside me. I need to have your sweat soak into my skin and absorb the smell after you've maxed and climaxed all over me and wish you could stay a little while longer. I need that ooh to come from my core and travel up to my center until it hits my tongue and it comes as moan that is muffled cause it ain't the place but you would surely have my time if only you were there. I knew going in you would never be mine, but I needed that scratch and you fit the bill like a congressman and I was going to do the ways and means to be a slave to your masterful hands and tongue and teeth and...See, if you could not handle me, then you shouldn't have fucked over her in the first place

Healing

How do I even begin? Time passes and I pretend as though I'm okay. That words of emptiness don't really matter because I know I have your heart anyway. Do I? I've become the mother of invention and the reality is I need to create a new way of naming this thing that we have that perplexes and vexes me and keeps me wound up, clocking you and exploding, C-4ing you and I just want to be free to give you all that I possess....

I am wondering

If I never hear the words, should I just listen to the actions?

I write of a love that never existed

I write to an address that no longer exists because I hurt from a love that never existed. I can't call and tell you that I ache for you. Wishing for a call, a kiss, a hug, a touch. How could I love so hard and not know I wasn't loved in return. I write to an address that doesn't exist because I hurt from a love that was mine and mine alone. We shared kisses that only we could share, spoke in languages that only we could comprehend. How could that have been false? How could I have missed the signs? Flowers, candy, gifts, those things weren't for us. The only thing we had to cling to was words. I used those words to carry me throughout heartache, reading them over and over when your voice wasn't there to give me comfort. I write to an address that no longer exists because I hurt from a love that wasn't returned. Was it even love that I felt or was it the intoxication I felt from your touch? Your hands touched me and my body filled with hot lava waiting to explode from it's volcano with one command. Your lips tasted of freedom and entrapment all in one, freeing me to give you all and making me a slave to effects of our lovemaking. Would I call it lovemaking? Would I call it fucking? What do you call something that has the power to soothe souls and bring torture. I write to an address that doesn't exist because I hurt from a love that didn't love me back. What do I do with all of this? I'm raw, an exposed being feening for the touch of someone who could care less, who plays with hearts as sport and gives no care to what he leaves behind. How will I get past this agony. I'll write to the address that is no longer his and pretend that he will see that I write of the love that never existed and use the pain to heal.

Is It Necessary

Do we need that physicality to prove our mentality?

Yours...

I'm sitting in my shell, anticipating the moment when you will come for me. You see me and you cradle me gently. Your eyes become soft at the sight of my presence. Present am I, yours for the taking. I'm aching to be touched by you. my skin rolling under your finger's touch. I am the kiss to your klimt, waiting to become the art I will be when you use your fingertips to bring me to life. You take off my jacket slowly and pour me on the bed. my earthen color and my sweet fragrance begin to fill the air. You slowly begin to clean me, making sure I'm pure for the moment we become one. I tremble with each touch of your fingers as you gently wipe each inch of me coaxing and turning me slowly and deliberately. if i could name your touch I still would be wordless cuz I can't words have not been invented that describes the way i feel when you caress me. How long have I waited for these moments. How long have you prepared me for the moment we would be as one your lips on me waiting on the effects you know only I can bring. I was born for this moment, nurtured and cared for just to give the pleasure that you seek. I lie naked to you now completely: clean, pure except for the places where you have touched me. I'm wrapped in the sheets cold from the exposure but I say nothing because the fire that's about to start will will produce the heat needed to have my body smoldering. I know our love affair will be brief but I don't care. Ours is a combination that is hypnotic and intoxicating, clarifying and sensual all in one short encounter. Ooooh, your lips are hot and wet at the same time and you coax and pull on me begging me to give you more. I give in and give you as much as you will allow me to give and more. You step away, breathless and full, wanting more of me but pausing to gather the moment. You cover me once more and just when I know we are about to do this dance until we are both spent and breathless, you callously pass me on to the next nigger and I'm no longer that thrill for you alone. You want others to feel my poison. How could you? I thought I was your mary jane...

Thoughts

I thought about you. I thought about you. Is it possible that we could be something? Your conversation told me "Yes!" I ebb and flow between the right and the wrong, knowing I shouldn't want you as mine. You told me that you dream of me. My heart explodes. Did you really think of me? Can you see us together, being a we that I've wanted us to be. God, am I wrong to hurt for him? Am I supposed to ache for the look of him and burn for the touch of him? I give no pretense and tell what I feel. Does this excite you? Does it make the hairs on your thighs stand up at the thought of me placing my tongue there? No woman should want a man so much, it's animalistic and depraven. Should I tell you that your words wash over me and become music to my skin like a violinist playing his last concerto, glad for the chance to meld and mold. My fingers tingle as I type this, mybeing releases nectar that runs streams for you.

Doubt

Could I be getting over you? Am I free from the spell you have cast over me? When you left me Friday, I thought my heart would implode leaving a vast void which was once so full, mostly of you. I lay and cried and prayed for the strength to pray for the courage to pray to get over you. Was it pain that caused you to speak to me that way? Were you just aching as I was as soon as I saw that you were agonizing? Am I supposed to feel this wretched? Is that how love is defined? Must the hurt sear through your body like a hunter's arrow does through its prey? I haven't talked to you in a week. Just now was my first time thinking of you. I try to conjure up the good I know we once had but all I see is the last time I saw your face. Pain, but not pain because of your separation from me. Pain, veiled by your polarized shields that wouldn't allow the world to see what lay behind them. I managed to smile and drive away and thanked God for the strength that gave me the courage to not turn around and go after you.

Pain

I haven't talked to you in days. I'm missing the sound of your voice. I'm hurting at the thought of not being able to talk to you again. Are you missing me as much as I miss you? Does the mere idea of not hearing my voice weaken you? Tears are threatening to fall from my eyes at any minute. I try my best to keep them in, fearful that once they start I will have no way of stopping them. How do I go on doing me without you being a part of it? How do I look at anythiing the same when I won't be able to view it through your eyes? I don't know how I'll even be able to breath knowing I can't pick up the phone and call you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I don't miss anything or anyone and I miss you. What hurts the most is I don't know if you're missing me.

Magical

I lay looking at the ceiling fan as it pulsated and cooled the area that was just torched by your touch. Every cell in my being is wide awake screaming "Rejoice" for the release you have just given them. FUCKING, that wondorous action that heals wounds, rights wrongs and just feels so damn good. That's what you did to me tonight.

Wonder

You asked me if my feelings for you are changing. I deny that emphatically. "No!", I reply almost too hastily. Have my feelings changed? Do I still want you as feverishly as I have before? I know that part of my frustration is that I can't have you the way that I want you. I know that if I ask for more you're going to give me the "situation" and I am just not trying to hear that bullshit. When I say that I need to be with you, then I need to be with you. I don't care about your situation. I respect the shit, but I don't care. Many times lately I've thought of telling you that I'm going to see other people. Who am I going to see? No one holds a candle to you and I know that. But at the same time, I need a balance because I've put myself in this position of being in love with you and accepting whatever you give me. I can't do that anymore. But I don't want to speak idle talk. I don't want it to be a reaction-invoking speech. When I come to you, I want to come to you with certainty, with someone who is worthy of what will be the undoing of us. Am I ready? Is it time for me to let you go?

Moping

I want you to tell me it's going to be okay. I want you to hold me and tell me it's going to be okay. I want you inside of me and tell me it's going to be okay. With every stroke of your dick, my hair, your back, I'll feel that it's going to be okay. No fido, no shetlands, just the two of us rejoicing with our bodies those things we can't say in words. We merge and I become your Aphrodite and your venom all at once, afraid to say how it makes me feel for fear you'll reject me. You afraid to tell me because you fear the truth. Words not needed because we both could lose with this overload. Spontaneously, once tell me you love me so that it may carry me for a lifetime. I so crave tenderness from you. The stroke of back, the stroke of your dick, all at once, all in all, total submission to a pleasure that for others is mystical but for us....truth

Confusion II

I was talking to YOU in the car on the way to work and what you said stung. Do you want us to be out in the open? Is it your wish for everyone to know we are what we are? Am I worth the risk to you. You once said that you want me to fight for you. What does that mean? What does fighting for you entail. Does it require me to make my presence known. What do you hope to accomplish by doing this. Does this become to you a testament to the feelings that I have for you. Is that what you want from me? Do you want the ultimate truth? I talked to K last night and we was trying to get me to explain why I didn't see you as my future. How could I not see you as my future. No man has enraptured me the way you have. No lover so complete who makes me dream, wish, think, rejoice, pause, breathe, stop, wonder, know the way you do. No companion so accepting, yet so honest with me about me to me. As I type of you, my fingers start to tingle at the thought of you seeing me naked, clothed, laying, standing. I look consistently at my phone to make sure I don't miss your call.

Betrayal

How do I tell YOU I slept with him? How do I say to YOU that place his dick in my mouth and gave him the best fucking blow job I could? I initiated the kiss between the two of us. He was merely trying to say hello. We hadn't been together since I have been with YOU. I licked his body like my very survival depended on each moan and groan he offered to me. I knew I was doing a good ass job. He couldn't hold his head up to look down at the job I was doing. Not very many women offer the opportunity to look. I thrive on it. It feeds me, gives me the edge to go on. His dick became my IV, giving me the fluids I needed to sustain life. When he entered me, I felt my flesh burn from the tear of my skin. I was on top of him so I could control the movement. He allowed me to do that. He just grabbed me and allowed, if only for a little while, the control of rhythm to be mine. Do I tell YOU how good it felt to have him inside of me? Do I tell YOU how with each stroke, my pussy was screaming from pleasure and begging for release at the same time? Do I tell YOU his hands sought mine, so that he could touch me and make me aware of the passion he was putting forth to me. I missed him and even though I didn't have to tell him (my pussy was doing plenty of talking for me), I told him anyway. He told me the same. With each stroke, his dick hardened and he gave me the kind of sex that only could only get from a nigger who enjoys what the fuck he is doing. We was enjoying me and I was enjoying him. Hours passed and we did not give pause. Ascending and descending, mountains and valleys of pleasure and pain rolling over each other until the two became one in the same. How do I tell YOU this? How do I tell YOU I thought of YOU the entire time?

Confusion

YOU told me last night that I am not open about my feelings for YOU. Of course I am open about my feelings. I realize and accept the fact that I love YOU. It's a scary, wondrous, amazing thing. Even when we are fighting, I look forward to hearing your voice everyday. I sometimes feel as though my day hasn't started because I haven't talked to YOU. My night doesn't end unless I have heard YOU tell me "I'm at home Boo." Sometimes, I hear a longing in your voice, wishing YOU weren't at home so soon. Maybe I wish it were longing that I heard. Now YOU tell me that there was time when YOU did replacements and what ifs? The thought of them scared YOU, so you tried to disconnect emotionally from me. Do YOU want me gone and just want me to do the dirty work? YOU have decide what your feelings are for me and what to do with them. Do YOU want to remove the sex from our relationship? Is the lovemaking we share so intense that it brings about uncomfortable feelings for YOU? Does she not make you feel the way I do when we are next each other? I can't help the way I respond to YOU when YOU touch me. Every kiss, stroke, lick, whisper, and moan has a transcendental quality that takes me to a place beyond any place. I need that from YOU. Why won't YOU give it to me?

Anger

How in the FUCK are YOU going to make demands of me? All I wanted YOU to do was show up. YOU didn't. Now, YOU say YOU are sorry. I feel so incredibly stupid. I know I love YOU. I know YOU don't love me. I can deal with that. What pisses me off is the fact that I actually thought YOU gave a damn. YOU don't give a damn and that is the part that is so infuriating. I want to hear sincerity in your voice. I know YOU are placating me. I can't escape. Right now at this very moment, I yearn for YOU to touch me like YOU touched me before. I want to feel YOU inside of me, while clinging to the hope that it isn't as good as I remembered. I tell myself that after that final taste of YOU, I'll be satisfied and I can walk away from YOU, and I won't look back. I keep looking at my cell, hoping YOU will call, just to hear your voice so that my pain starts fresh. I don't want to talk to YOU, I need to talk to YOU. It's 1:30. YOU haven't called me back. Why do I keep looking at my cell?

Torture

I sat up and waited for YOU. I even went and sat in my car to wait so I wouldn't miss your call (damn weak ass phone signal). I watched An Affair to Remember and looked at the couple as they finally became reunited in the end. Something told me YOU weren't going to show up. I don't know about anyone else's Something, but mine is pretty strong. When YOU called and asked if I had done it, I should have told YOU then that she hadn't done it. I just wanted to be with YOU so badly, I allowed myself to hope and allowed her to do the transaction. YOU chuckled and I had the audacity to think it was because YOU were as excited about being with me as I was about being with YOU. I kept hoping YOU would call to say "I'm sorry". YOU didn't YOU never called. It's 10:21 and YOU still have not called. I sit here at my desk listening to MeShell Ndegeocello's voice. I contemplate what I'll say to YOU when YOU call. I know YOU will call. YOU need confirmation of my pain

Have I been busy!!!

What a whirlwind these past few months!!! Let's do a rundown of my activities:

I decided to be a nappyhead

I went natural a few years ago before my son was born but it didn't last very long. After being inspired by my girl, I decided to do it again and stick with it. I cut my hair September 1st after about 4 months of transitioning. Here is what I've learned:

1. My hair is a reflection of change in my life. When I started transitioning, I changed my hairstyle from one that was essentially a straight hairstyle to a curly one within a matter of weeks. One of my colleagues said I was going thorugh a state of transition in my life and my hair was simply reflecting that. At the time, I wasn't doing anything drastic nor did I foresee any drastic changes in the future. However, I didn't discount what she said and I simply held on to that.

It's About Time

Well, Looky Here!!

It's about time somebody gave my girls their propers. I swear I could write my dissertation I'm supposed to being working on around Girlfriends. Perhaps after seeing this one, the brass will straighten up and know that Toni belongs on this show

Nigger, Please!!

A friend of mine who happens to know the author sent me this website. I read an advance copy of the book. I must WOW!!! It is definitely on the cutting edge. Anyone who is aware of the degradation we consistently put ourselves through as people should grab this one.