Toxic Love

I sent it.

The six words that has my heart racing faster than a laced spliff.

My breathing jagged.
My stomach cramping with anxiety.
You’ll probably take a few hours to respond. Probably won’t respond at all. Normal things, the new you does. Your choice. Guess its better that way anyway.
Eight months and counting; half a year and two months is how long you’ve forced me to be without you - for you.
I’m not worried. More like afraid to face reality. Afraid to let go of hope. Afraid to face the truth. Afraid to face my fears of losing you…all over again.
You’ll never get it. Won’t understand that you were those things for me; hope, dreams, love, my inspiration. All the things I am for myself but together we were a team.
I know I’m the catch, therefore, I can’t chase you but truth is, I know I’ve already lost you. Rather you’ve changed so much, you’ve lost yourself and that’s what this search is really about.
You’ve let go of me and now everyone I meet I see some part of you and I hate them. Fearing them because another four years will go past and they’ll leave me like it’s nothing, only to fall in love with themselves while I try to fix what drove them away.
And I’ll sit at a distance, watching them live…no need to call me, text me or miss me because apparently, my love is toxic.

Once Upon a Time…

I sat in my chair at work and cried today. Silently allowing the tears to spring from my, once dry, eyes. Guess all these emotions started last night; after your phone went to voicemail for the second time. I realized how empty your promise was to me.

Four years.

1523 days
131,587,200 seconds
2,193,120 minutes
36,552 hours
1523 days

Ever thought to calculate how much time we’ve shared?

If that’s not sad enough, I broke down three times today. Once, when I sent a message blaming myself but not being able to blame you for leaving me. Second, having to take a break because you stopped texting me. Third, after ranting on to someone about how you made me an empty promise; one in which I can’t complain about because it’s either this or nothing at all. Or so you’ve said to threaten me…

Yes, I’m in my feelings.

Four years of knowing him, loving him, giving him all that I have to give, only for him to leave me to focus on him and his problems. To sort out his life and because he never has much problems or concerns, he never needs to talk to me about anything. Sounds fair, right?

Thought you we’re doing that with me, as a team. Now when I text you, even on your days off, you leave me hanging in the middle of conversations….but you’re here for me, right?

Soon this all won’t matter. I won’t care about you or this or remember that this ever existed. I won’t walk past a park and remember you watching me touch the skies on the swings. Won’t listen to a song and your face won’t appear. I won’t feel anything.

What hurts the most, the worst torment of it all is, I’d still try and by try, I mean I’d give my all…all over again.

Once upon a time, there was a sweet loving girl…whose hate never stopped beating.

Captain Save Them

I had a dream that I was talking someone out of killing someone but instead, he shot himself in front of me. I woke up in tears and had to pray because somewhere in the world, at that exact moment, someone lost their life and I couldn’t save them.

Dear God

God, first I want to thank you. You’ve kept me close even after I’ve pushed so far away.

I’ve said this list to you time and time again, even written it down. Guess now I just want to add a few things.

My desires in a man:

First God, he has to love YOU more than he will love me but still put me above all that should come after.

His skin, be it smooth chocolate, hazel brown or vinalla, let it be clear from any markings that may not be satisfying to you.

His eyes, let them shine so bright with colors that may pass down to our children; hazel brown, green, blue or even gray. I just ask that he can see perfectly and his eyes be fixated on only me.

His body, let him be built like a warrior. A solider from the land of freedom; fighting for justice and peace. Fighting for love and everlasting happiness. Fighting to forever please me as I will forever please him.

His mind, allow him to think clearly. To pray to you before making irrational decisions. To come to me before fighting alone but to make decisions as the head of the household.

His heart, let it be as pure as a troubled heart can be. I know no man on this earth is perfect, so I pray for the closest thing to it. That he be perfect for me and only me.

God, I just pray that all of which you have in-store for me come to past. You know my pain, you’ve heard my cry and you’ve said in due time. Lord, I pray that you find the perfect fit for me. One that will do anything to see me smile or that will move mountains to heal my pain. So that I may be his rib, his heart will beat rapidly at the sight of me, his eyes is all I will ever need to see and his mind will be stayed on you.

I’ve given to you my hearts desires – the main ingredients – I will now wait as you stir the pot and add all the seasonings. Before all is said and done, I thank you Lord for he is amazing.


Love Isn’t a Drug

It’s when I know I can’t call to hear your voice; I want to the most. When I know seeing your face or playing with you hair is no longer an option; my eyes begin to tear and my hands shake like an addict weaning off drugs. It’s not you I miss; it’s the idea of us being together. Our adventures, our play fights and petty arguments (most of which I started just for you to put me in my place). Girls like that sh*t.

What’s that saying about love? 
Love is not about staring at each other but about staring off in the same direction.”
Guess my eyes were fixated too close to home – you. While yours stared through vaults in banks and through the eyes of your future self – always a big dreamer. 
Nowadays, words are so toxic and deadly; people have trouble believing them, causing women to scorn love after a heartbreak.
Understand, I’mnot heartbroken. 
Just currently rocking in between the stages of forgiveness and fortune – letting go and moving on. 
At times I think of you in the vaguest ways; wondering what you’d be doing in that exact moment or if our telepathy was still in tack, and you were thinking about me too. Random thoughts. Unanswered questions. However, my own thoughts are fair game – I share them with the world every now and then. Just enough to have them understand my point of view, my reasonings.
In no way am I trying to make up for lost times or build with you another home on such a rocky foundation. It’s impossible to do so.
I’m just talking. 
In a few months, you’ll hear the news and you’ll either care or won’t. By that time, I would have washed my hands, made my bed in the new sheets I’d bought and had a grin so wide all my imperfections would be showing. Therefore, it wouldn’t matter. Just know, there were so many quotes I could have posted. So many things I could have said, after the fact, but I realized I had let go of you long before you asked me to. It never deemed on me how easy it may have appeared for you to end the whole thing. Bet you thought you had all the power. Sorry, but no. Some things are meant to end in ways you, as a person, just can’t end them.
Love isn’t a drug but it is an addiction. You weren’t my poison, just my lesson. 
So thank you. 

Borrowed Words

You disappointed me.

But I expected it.

I only wanted some gratification.

A sign that you cared.

I’m stupid.

So I stuff it down and tolerate my own dissatisfaction.

I can only think about your hands, your mouth and your dick. When I truly just want your mind.

Shared inhales.

Finger tips meeting and tiny nibbles. Soft caresses and whispers. The heat between our bodies. I can get it from anyone but the tiniest moments handled with care and tenderness are the moments I don’t forget. Forever leaving me in a state of anticipation and devotion.

- not my own words but each word fits completely,

so I had to borrow them.

We All Have Firsts

He watched from the edge of the bed; her body laying still, curled in the fetal position. Refusing to move. It was the first time his hand met her skin with force. The first time he harmed the one person he swore he’d give the world to.

She laid there. Her breathing uneasy, slowly recovering from events taken place only ten minutes before. Her lip felt numb and tasted like blood; sour and the color of rust. He didn’t mean it, she thought.

Slowly inching towards her, he reached for her legs. She flinched, whimpering like a battered dog after a lost battle. He pulled away. “I’m sorry. Princess, I’m so sorry.”

In that instance, those words lost their meaning. A man with so much power, so much potential to love, became so weak in her eyes.

They stayed in silence for hours.

It was the first time he broke every rule….but that was just the beginning.

Road to Success

She said, “you must love him.”

With a deep sigh and scattered thoughts, I spoke words to her, “you have no idea how bittersweet this feels. It’s not like I try to or that I want to; my heart just clings to him and now it’s weak and won’t leave even when in my mind I know he doesn’t deserve me.”

She told me to things along the line of how to let him go. “Walk away,” she said, “and see if he follows.”

I laughed, a little harder than I should have, seeing as how it wasn’t a joke because she didn’t understand how he’d just watch me walk away. Sure, he’d hurt a little, probably a lot for a little while, but he’d heal because he was on a mission that didn’t need me.

“Maybe he’s stuck,” she began again, trying to piece together the puzzle, “he wants you but doesn’t feel like right now is the right time.”

Again, laughter escaped my lungs, “stuck?” I questioned her theory and held my stomach as it began to ache with pain; I couldn’t understand how one word could be so humorous. “He isn’t stuck. He knows what he wants. Knows where he wants to go. His ideas are set and he prays that God grants each of them. He just doesn’t need me,” I pondered, understanding my own words, “as much as I don’t need him. We just lust for one another. He feeds my flesh and I crave affection. He craves power, money and success. When I know all that will come in time. He’s on a mission.”

“Why keep doing this to yourself?” Her words pierced me like bullets being fired from dozens of armed angry men. I didn’t have an answer. I didn’t need an answer because she read it so clearly. We both knew. Instead she said, “what now?”

I looked at her, I took one good look and said, “God has a plan, I’m just waiting on it to fall through.”

With those last words, I drew back my arm and with force smashed the hammer in my hand in the mirror.

Like dust, she was gone but everything else still remained.

Nine Lives

I over think. I over analyze. I over feel. I over bear. I over-estimate.

They say curiosity killed the cat – I could have sworn they had nine lives.

I hate circles. Circles are not only shapes but life habits. It consists of recurrences. Consistency. The epitome of insanity.

Maybe the cat was only curious because she seen possibilities; potential. Wanted more than what she was given.

Doesn’t matter.

I watched it rain. Watched tiny water filled droplets kiss the Earth’s dirty surface. Then I watched the sun peek its head through the clouds and smile upon the Earth.

After every storm, there will be sunshine. There has to be. I refuse to believe that all the pain we feel in this world has no meaning, no reason.

Curiosity surely did kill the cat but I’ve been told satisfaction bought it back.




Ever noticed how we view our problems during the storm and how they appear after the sun arises in the morning. I guess when the skies are dark, so are our thoughts and when the light shines through, we find peace. Not only did I wake up feeling numb but I arose realizing that I chose to let go of the one thing I think was holding me together. Without it, there are only words and feelings, if they even truly exist. 

When different circumstances are caused by changes in your life, you start to see changes in the people who surround you. Watch for their flaws. Remember, at our worst, they may either draw closer to support you or push you aside to deal with their own “problems”. Observe them. Step back and do things a little differently. Wait for them to approach you. Wait for them to feel the difference. That’s how we truly know if what we’ve changed was the only reason why they existed in our lives for that period of time.       

Guess I’ve been stuck in my own thoughts lately. The idea of becoming too open starting to scare me, being too comfortable, dawned on me. I kept putting up walls I’d watch crumble. Voicing things that had no weight without actions.

None of that matters now, just morning thoughts. Scrambled emotions. What I am sure of is that God is still my strength, my focus needs to be on learning to trust Him.