tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-42386870875519434302024-03-05T23:41:46.742+13:00FoxyMaPoetry and Life. Pretty much anything that pertains to me and my situation. I just love to write.Jerseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15902785554725426944noreply@blogger.comBlogger30125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4238687087551943430.post-65296866376898630362017-02-20T05:57:00.000+13:002017-02-20T05:57:44.502+13:00I'm Not Scared...But I'm Scared ofI'm not scared of LiONs AnD TiGeRs AnD BeARs, but I'm scared of...<br />
<br />
I'm scared of wanting someone to be a part of my life more than they want to be there.<br />
<br />
I'm scared of connecting with someone that is unavailable.<br />
<br />
I'm scared of losing the few people that actually give a damn. Apparently it's easy to walk away from me.<br />
<br />
I'm scared of trying and falling flat on my face so I frequently take myself out of the game before even giving myself a chance to succeed. (like this school thing)<br />
<br />
I'm scared that when I speak no one really listens.<br />
<br />
I'm scared of ending up alone. And since I can't get with anything that can't feed itself or clean up it's own shyt...I won't even be that creepy cat lady. LOL<br />
<br />
I'm just sayin...<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
*This was originally written 2/19/09 and still rings true. So I thought I'd share it. Makes me want to cry from an overflow of emotion. </div>
Jerseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15902785554725426944noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4238687087551943430.post-15474295560447353232015-04-20T21:32:00.001+13:002019-08-10T22:06:13.554+13:00Rotten Fruit<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="color: white; font-family: "uictfonttextstylebody"; font-size: 17px;">He places me in timeout in</span><span style="color: white; font-family: "uictfonttextstylebody"; font-size: 17px;"> my fragile state</span></span></span><br />
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">So he can watch my abused body crumble to pieces instead of holding me together when I needed him most. </span></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">I am broken</span></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">Pieces of me embedded into the fibers of the very same comforter</span></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">Where a strange man stripped away my dignity at the precise moment he forced himself inside me</span></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">Strategically folding and stuffing himself into my secret garden</span></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">Raw</span></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">Trespassing on sacred territory</span></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">Because he felt he had a right to what's legally mine...</span></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">So, freely he sampled me </span></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">Taking the best part of me selfishly</span></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">Leaving me damaged like rotten fruit</span></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">Knowing that nobody else would want me</span></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">Hearing so-called friends taunt me</span></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">As if anyone could find being raped funny</span></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">So he laughed in my face while I cried</span></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">Not knowing how to properly embrace me</span></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">He touched my nerves instead of my spirit and made a mockery of my pain.</span></span></div>
Jerseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15902785554725426944noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4238687087551943430.post-43710306537518123942014-08-19T19:14:00.001+13:002014-09-08T22:33:48.097+13:00Hopeless Romantic<span style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">She's just a hopeless romantic</span><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">She's hopelessly frantic<br><div>She's hopelessly hoping he harbors the same feelings for her as she does him; see he's romantic.</div><div>Dreaming vividly with words and emotions</div><div>Remembering what it feels like to be touched</div><div>Remembering what it feels like to be touched by him</div><div>Making me his ocean</div><div>Rocking together in unison and I made drums from an old head board and his bedroom wall</div><div>Til he and I came together</div><div>Swearing I'd never fall but damn words don't adequately express </div><div>This jumbled up mess inside my head</div><div>Thinking at best this could be something real</div><div>Or that's what I thought</div><div>Confusing reality with how I feel</div><div>Knowing that soon I'll just be a chalk outline along the beaten path and he'll have forgotten about me before the ink even dries on this poem. </div><div>Remembering home</div><div>But knowing that nobody remembers you when you're gone</div></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">So you're forced to make people disappear same as your emotions </div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">Numb due to this frostbite that swallowed your heart</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">Decorated with tick marks of every guy that's came and gone without even caring to remember your name. </div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">And the worst part is I let him in thinking he was different</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">But he was just like the others and for that, only I can accept the blame. <div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiPvAZ3wV_ey-DpuwxJoh94ReFAUf3IYrb6gFyo6eKysaYpTgA_ST3xTiUZKRpMzs8UTq3xJuoF9xNh8hoGzp8-JWmszvxsS5XdDbW-C5yAacM1RMLIfcJJwH3jYLgFtaWwaXUeDr5VCA/s640/blogger-image-176998752.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiPvAZ3wV_ey-DpuwxJoh94ReFAUf3IYrb6gFyo6eKysaYpTgA_ST3xTiUZKRpMzs8UTq3xJuoF9xNh8hoGzp8-JWmszvxsS5XdDbW-C5yAacM1RMLIfcJJwH3jYLgFtaWwaXUeDr5VCA/s640/blogger-image-176998752.jpg"></a></div></div>Jerseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15902785554725426944noreply@blogger.com0Honolulu Honolulu21.361564 -157.906514tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4238687087551943430.post-50994884104082813582013-12-05T20:08:00.001+13:002014-02-25T22:02:28.108+13:00Untitled/Unfinished...<div>
<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); font-family: '.Helvetica NeueUI';">They say misery loves company</span></div>
<div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); font-family: ".Helvetica NeueUI";">
But he also love words that rhyme with hi, dove and boo</div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); font-family: ".Helvetica NeueUI";">
So he whispers sweet nothings to the sounds of I love you.</div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); font-family: ".Helvetica NeueUI";">
While I slip into love with the possibility</div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); font-family: ".Helvetica NeueUI";">
He slips in between my thighs</div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); font-family: ".Helvetica NeueUI";">
Letting his lips slip false truths or rather white lies, as black and white turn gray.</div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); font-family: ".Helvetica NeueUI";">
Fixating on ways to illuminate this dark hole</div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); font-family: ".Helvetica NeueUI";">
My sparks slow and he pushes me away.</div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); font-family: ".Helvetica NeueUI";">
So I push back </div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); font-family: ".Helvetica NeueUI";">
Ignorant to the fact that things will never be how they used to be</div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); font-family: ".Helvetica NeueUI";">
Allowed my dreams to compromise my reality</div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); font-family: ".Helvetica NeueUI";">
Until I boxed myself in white picket fences at the top of my wish list</div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); font-family: ".Helvetica NeueUI";">
But swearing on a bible doesn't necessarily mean I'm telling the truth</div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); font-family: ".Helvetica NeueUI";">
So accept this as my proof</div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); font-family: ".Helvetica NeueUI";">
And even though I love you despite all the evil things you do</div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); font-family: ".Helvetica NeueUI";">
It's time to love me more...</div>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Jerseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15902785554725426944noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4238687087551943430.post-49505865461988740552013-08-22T18:14:00.001+13:002013-08-22T18:14:24.122+13:00But I Love You<div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Rewind a little time back</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">As present meets memories</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">And I frantically try to escape</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">The mystery that is us</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Lost in lust</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I remember the good we shared</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Until wet dreams turned into night sweats</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">And you made me afraid to step out of your shadow</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">But I love you</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Til love conquers all</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">And the good stuff makes me forget all the misery</span></div>Jerseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15902785554725426944noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4238687087551943430.post-25166988248328370842013-08-11T20:05:00.001+13:002013-08-13T20:12:48.448+13:00Addicted To Your Love<div>
This is a follow up piece to <a href="http://foxyma2k9.blogspot.com/2012/09/pondering-what-if.html" target="_blank">Pondering What If</a>.<br>
<br>
<br></div>
<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px;">His lips whispered </span><br>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px;">
The equivalent </div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px;">
Of what felt like a kiss </div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px;">
To my heart<br>
<div>
And with different sparks </div>
<div>
Made me fall in love.</div>
<div>
Head first I fell thru a ring of lust</div>
<div>
Longin for the simple things in life</div>
<div>
Like a true crush or even a gentle touch</div>
<div>
As his love made love to my soul.</div>
<div>
Felt no longer broken</div>
<div>
I was whole </div>
<div>
And this was even before I allowed him to come into me</div>
<div>
But like a fool </div>
<div>
I gave my heart to a man </div>
<div>
Who wants nothing more than to screw me.</div>
<div>
To tango and dance with anyone and anything anatomically identical to this</div>
<div>
Leaving nothing to chance</div>
<div>
Going for what he wants and</div>
<div>
Sadly that isn't me. </div>
<div>
Had me pondering what if til I finally did</div>
<div>
Wishing I never had because he tells me that he loves me </div>
<div>
But only with his words </div>
<div>
He doesn't understand me when I tell him all the other stuff gets drowned out by the magnitude of his actions</div>
<div>
Resonating louder than words</div>
<div>
Cutting permanent scars into the possibility that could've been us. </div>
<div>
Lost in lust </div>
<div>
I thought I was in love </div>
<div>
And even more foolishly that he loved me back</div>
<div>
But I'm no longer dumb to the fact </div>
<div>
As blind eyes now clearly see</div>
<div>
That this was never more than a fuckin game.</div>
<div>
So I prepare myself to walk away as I urge him to do the same</div>
<div>
Cuz if love hurts this much I'd rather just settle for pain</div>
<div>
No more fake smiles during storms of rain</div>
<div>
Settling for fake exchanges made in vain</div>
<div>
Rather you just ask to hit the pussy instead of dropping my heart down the drain</div>
<div>
Pretending this was ever about anything more than sex.</div>
<div>
I respect that you stayed, but not the many games you played while my love got tangled up in yours</div>
<div>
And now baby I'm lost in myself. </div>
<div>
Addicted to your love but knowing withdrawal is the only way I'll ever truly be happy again and the only way I can actually live. </div>
<div>
So I implore you to give </div>
<div>
The only shot I'll ever get </div>
<div>
At finding true happiness.</div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwJbuo6rIjx8b6BX8q5S6oq06MK-WfNQDvqNPF1e6UDH8AzuOI6geTGr2bOqHmVfoKtCwss3ZFTWt8bc8Wv5-EAYcIq4fj_i_B16hvjtWcXukqqeadB77t8wuTOEbu56TuU0mMuZXGiXc/s640/blogger-image-2130863631.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwJbuo6rIjx8b6BX8q5S6oq06MK-WfNQDvqNPF1e6UDH8AzuOI6geTGr2bOqHmVfoKtCwss3ZFTWt8bc8Wv5-EAYcIq4fj_i_B16hvjtWcXukqqeadB77t8wuTOEbu56TuU0mMuZXGiXc/s640/blogger-image-2130863631.jpg"></a></div>
<br></div>
</div>
Jerseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15902785554725426944noreply@blogger.com0Ewa Beach Ewa Beach21.321501 -158.004294tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4238687087551943430.post-32959371068172145712012-09-04T20:09:00.001+13:002012-09-04T20:09:00.305+13:00Pondering What IfIt's funny how much he makes me smile and I've never even seen his face<br />
He strokes my ego in ways that no man ever has<br />
Causing my bad days to instantly turn good with the most simplistic of phrases<br />
Like hello, I like you & sweet dreams <br />
So I dream sweet dreams of one day meeting this king that has me so intrigued<br />
Speechless as he sings invisible melodies that make me trip clumsily over my insecurities and long to fall into his arms <br />
Wishing I could run my hands over his bald head or maybe even his bare chest<br />
But at best I'm left stroking these keys as 600 miles separates us from really experiencing what this could be<br />
So I'm reduced to sporadic texts and late-night phone calls in place of face-to-face conversations and intimacy<br />
Yearning for ways to subtract the miles away til there's nothing between us but small pockets of air and electricity<br />
And to finally kiss those lips...<br />
It'd be like a full moon followed by a lunar eclipse<br />
Followed by darkness because I'm scared of what comes after this<br />
I open up to him and share my heart's contents<br />
But I dread maybe one day having regrets <br />
Because maybe he thinks I'm kinda cool<br />
But there's nothing more that he wants from me<br />
Just to watch me smile<br />
So I shy away and hide my tears due to pride<br />
Retreating <br />
Before he ever really displays any real emotion<br />
And spend an eternity pondering what if<br />
Because I couldn't just be in the moment and live. Jerseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15902785554725426944noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4238687087551943430.post-77407980877707846142012-08-16T18:56:00.000+13:002012-08-17T02:00:41.436+13:00Pretend Friends with Benefits<br />
Difficult man complicates our relatively simplistic relationship<br />
<br />
Making old wounds bleed over his insecurities<br />
<br />
Strumming my strings with his fingers<br />
<br />
As he plays Geppeto and casts me into the role of Pinocchio<br />
<br />
But I love myself too much to play his puppet<br />
<br />
Toying with my emotions as he quickly comes in and out of me and my life<br />
<br />
How could the best 30 and worst 30 minutes of my life overlap in perfect harmony?<br />
<br />
Trapped in a bittersweet symphony of my desires and the battered reality of my truth<br />
<br />
He calls me only when it’s convenient<br />
<br />
As my calls mysteriously drop from his phone<br />
<br />
And he mysteriously drops me from his day<br />
<br />
Knowing that I’m not even a priority, but still I stay<br />
<br />
Lost in lust<br />
<br />
I trust that he would never do the one thing that matters most…<br />
<br />
Hurt me<br />
<br />
And no matter how hard I tried<br />
<br />
I still found his heart tangled up in mine<br />
<br />
And damn if we aren’t both lost in a complicated web of lies<br />
<br />
His scent causes my heart to skip a beat<br />
<br />
I swear when he touches me I die<br />
<br />
And those sexy lips and soft kisses gives me life<br />
<br />
But only for one or two nights<br />
<br />
You see<br />
<br />
Because as certain as I’m sure I’m a nice piece of ass<br />
<br />
She’s probably the one he’s making his wife<br />
<br />
So even though he just maybe kinda likes me<br />
<br />
I think I love him<br />
<br />
And if I loved myself I wouldn’t be sitting here writing this<br />
<br />
Recounting one of my most memorable trysts<br />
<br />
Wanting to believe I’m so much more<br />
<br />
But secretly knowing im just a pretend friend with benefits<br />
<br />
Tired of being stringed along at the bottom of his list<br />
<br />
And getting my gift snatched out from my arms and thrown away<br />
<br />
Like newborn babies who wanted nothing more than a chance at life<br />
<br />
So I keep my distance<br />
<br />
And now I blow sour kisses from across cold, green, distant plains<br />
<br />
Because I just can’t stand to be near him<br />
<br />
I can no longer stomach my lust and distrust<br />
<br />
To see his face next to her memory<br />
<br />
And nothing next to mine but a memory of us<br />
<br />
Drowning in a sea of emptiness<br />
<br />
Looking for someone to throw me a lifeline<br />
<br />
And rescue me from myself and the life of mine<br />
<br />
And maybe just maybe<br />
<br />
Teach me how to be loved and how to love again<br />
<br />
But I’m over married men and guys with girlfriends<br />
<br />
Who insist on cheating and lying their way into my precious underpants<br />
<br />
Tickling my sweet spot<br />
<br />
With the tips of their tongues<br />
<br />
As if we don’t speak the same fuckin language<br />
<br />
And I don’t already understand exactly what this is<br />
<br />
And to think…if I were the sensitive type I’d probably cry<br />
<br />
Tears of disappointment and pain<br />
<br />
So that just in case you didn’t hear me<br />
<br />
You could see how bad it hurts<br />
<br />
Knowing you’ll say and do anything to fuck me…over.<br />
Jerseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15902785554725426944noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4238687087551943430.post-43033660487771929832012-05-20T08:43:00.000+13:002012-05-20T08:56:51.909+13:00The Perfect DreamHere's a piece I wrote off the top of my head in 2008! It's about love that's in a different time zone and how it feels longing for it! Enjoy!!!!
<br />
<br />
Like a baby fox I stay on nocturnal watch
<br />
Pissed at an east coast time clock <br />
And wishing with you all time would just stop
<br />
I'm this bushy tailed fox <br />
Trying to count rocks and sleep my way into a perfect dream
<br />
Not sleeping awake at night <br />
Needing to know what the f*ck does it mean
<br />
So I keep retracing my steps trying to figure out where did I go wrong
<br />
But we still end up in this tangled dance and song
<br />
And I can't help but feel like I was tricked and wronged
<br />
Cuz like a newborn with fragile wings I still can't fly
<br />
But conversations with you gives new life to living things
<br />
And falling out of the nest isn't as bad as it seems
<br />
Now, whereas before I was alone
<br />
I have you to pick me up and strengthen my wings.Jerseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15902785554725426944noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4238687087551943430.post-32681235587570481922011-12-20T12:28:00.002-11:002011-12-20T12:28:54.721-11:00Thanks (Graduation Poem)<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I hear tick tock tick tock</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Clocks chirp melodically</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">As I search for a way to buy more time</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">And at best turn simple dreams into a simple reality</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Where 1+1=2</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">And I could’ve thrown in the towel a million times without you</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">For many days puddles drenched my feet</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">My fate mirrored doom</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Til the day I stood proudly</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Degree with me;</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">A day I realized my dreams had finally came true.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>Jerseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15902785554725426944noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4238687087551943430.post-71461042882763996972011-12-02T05:47:00.001-11:002011-12-02T05:47:30.745-11:00Lost in LustRewind a little time back<br />As present meets memories<br />And I frantically try to escape<br />
<span class="text_exposed_show">The mystery that is us<br />Lost in lust<br />I remember the good we shared<br />Until dreams turned into night sweats<br />And you made me afraid to step out of your shadow<br />But I love you<br />Til love conquers all<br />And the good stuff makes me forget all the misery</span>Jerseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15902785554725426944noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4238687087551943430.post-89658724218691969412011-12-02T04:56:00.001-11:002011-12-02T05:22:58.983-11:00Using God as a Reason to Hate is Still HATEFUL. Love, The Gays!<br />
<br />
<br />
<strong><em><span style="color: red;">The following is the dialogue that transpired after I posted a video of a boy advocating same-sex parenting as he was raised by a lesbian couple. This is a prime example of why I am so turned off by so many so-called Christians that parade their hatred behind the Bible. I believe in equality for everyone and nothing you can say would persuade me to change my mind. There are people in America that are treated like second class citizens and I won't stand for it. Speak up or you won't be heard!!!! </span></em></strong><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: ES;">HIM: People who believe in sexual preference don't believe in God. That's why I'm getting my life right with the Lord cause I can't be down in hell with all them gays and lesbo's. God created Woman to be a mans mate not another man and he knew what he was doing. Homosexuality in NOT right and str8 people need to stop being so weak and start standing up for what u believe in. And no I didn't read the speech cause I don't wanna hear what the punk gotta say. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: ES;">ME: I disagree, disagree and disagree. But thanks for sharing your views on the subject. And you should've watched the video. It's actually about the parenting capabilities of homosexuals. It's a good speech full of valid points. Lol </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: ES;">HER: The sexual orientation of the young man's parents is no reason to call him a punk. He is very articulate. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: ES;">HIM: A gay dude has no parenting skills. I would absolutely hate it if my pops was gay. A man is supposed to be an example of strength and stability not weakness and I don't care about how articulate he is. U can articulate and be str8. U don't ...think a man suckin' another mans dick is sick or what about him getting fucked in his ass. That ain't right. God didn't intend for a man to have sex with another man or a woman to have sex with another woman. Now watch that video again but this time think about all the dick he has sucked or how many times he took it up the ass then tell me he ain't a sicko psycho. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: ES;">HER: He never said he was gay. What do his parents being gay have to do with him? I thought you said you didn't watch the video. I'm confused as to how you're even commenting and you didn't watch the video. I'm not saying homosexuality is right ...in God's eyes. But cursing and trying to preach about how hell bound the next person is, is just as wrong. Psycho is getting on here trying to preach and you're not right yourself. Tell me God loves your profanity and then we can have a discussion. I'm sure there are things in your life that God doesn't like. And while you're standing up for what's right be sure to preach against premarital sex (you've probably had plenty of it). You said people who do believe in sexual preference don't believe in God. So people who have premarital sex, have babies out of wedlock, etc don't believe in God. So by your standards people who sin don't believe God. Therefore you don't... believe in Him either. I'm positive that your profanity is a sin. We are ALL born into sin and shaped in iniquity (Psalm 51:5). My point is we all have something in our blood line that's sin. This is why we must crucify our flesh daily. It's obvious that you did not thoroughly think before you began commenting. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: ES;">ME: </span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: ES;">Very well said!!! My point exactly.<br /><br />And @Him the video is for everyone that says homosexuals can't raise "normal" kids or even exemplary kids. He's proof that they can do both. Your argument makes a lot of false assumptions two of... which are all straight men are strong and all gay men are weak. Both are wrong. I just hate when sinners use "being against homosexuality" as their platform for being right with God. I think before you can stand in judgment of anyone else you should be perfect in the eyes of God and if you can't testify that you're WITHOUT SIN yourself, who are you to judge another human...especially based on YOUR religious beliefs?! And no you don't have to respond. We get it. God hates fags blah blah blah. I respect your opinion but I'm tired of reading your hatred on my walls cuz its disrespectful son. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: ES;">#imjustsayin So let's just agree to disagree.</span></div>Jerseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15902785554725426944noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4238687087551943430.post-16184113762745064912011-11-13T02:01:00.001-11:002011-11-13T02:36:52.186-11:00Remembering the days of "I Do"Remember me til it hurts<br />
As memories flash like thunder strikes<br />
Exploding across a warm summer's day<br />
Tracing the painful experience that was us<br />
Allowing insecurities and trust issues to<br />
Drive wedges in between our love<br />
Til enemies were all that were left<br />
Naked chocolate bodies<br />
Whispering false truths to the sounds of he loves me he loves me not til the moment my heart broke<br />
And when we spoke you confirmed what I feared to be true<br />
Remembering the days of "I Do"<br />
Knowing baby steps were the only way you could<br />
And to this alleged lifelong friendship<br />
Dead<br />
Lifeless<br />
Like the time we cried <br />
You and I<br />
Time spent in vain<br />
Because I thought we had forever<br />
But your shit was gone by the end of the week<br />
And no matter how little it hurts<br />
You'll always be my motivation for this<br />
Love lost rekindled with a bitter kiss<br />
Here's to the future because I refuse to be held hostage by this<br />
And to you kind sir<br />
Kiss my past<br />
Cuz you are history baby.Jerseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15902785554725426944noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4238687087551943430.post-26206438660299354202011-11-08T05:07:00.002-11:002011-11-13T01:59:25.856-11:00Bouncing in Circles by Counts of 5<div>
I sit alone in a crowded room<br />
Surrounded by nothing but time<br />
Memories lived bouncing in circles by counts of 5<br />
And I always stop on 12:20 on the dot<br />
The day that I met you <br />
And I swear time stopped<br />
You warmed a cold, broken heart <br />
And if I knew then what I know now I would've ran away from you<br />
Far away from that day<br />
For we shared a bitter love <br />
One that ended before it really began<br />
And after all the love lost<br />
I lost another friend</div>Jerseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15902785554725426944noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4238687087551943430.post-39117904633980598632011-09-05T11:47:00.000-11:002013-12-08T13:57:40.386+13:00I Am Not My Hair...<div class="mobile-photo">
...A lesson I am learning the hard way. Since I began my lupus treatment my hair has slowly been falling out. I cut off most of it as an attempt to slow down the rate at which it was falling out, but the truth is nothing is going to stop it short of stopping my medicine. It's hard not having hair as I've always been that girl with long, beautiful hair and now I'm bald and sick. Still fabulous though. Just thought I'd share....<br>
<br>
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br></div>
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
<br></div>
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
<br></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpi2QhKG5a9TnoZ4zM1Zb2CLTSBmqhivvHynGW1V_EhSR8mri_DcUHKK_YgOgqCAiBY1Q5FsbIanFyLmSQmLs9JV7eW_YipMeq7qpY9r6w-ilJic6YYesIQiKw7623ly3UZoyx7ILwk_Y/s1600/0904001037.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" nda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpi2QhKG5a9TnoZ4zM1Zb2CLTSBmqhivvHynGW1V_EhSR8mri_DcUHKK_YgOgqCAiBY1Q5FsbIanFyLmSQmLs9JV7eW_YipMeq7qpY9r6w-ilJic6YYesIQiKw7623ly3UZoyx7ILwk_Y/s320/0904001037.jpg" width="285"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Before the Lupus...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
<br></div>
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br></div>
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
<br></div>
<br>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigkN7uK0vremqfhS4keCpcXc5YTIH6Q7XikkKpEwBdyfcS0CXjAhz4KbZIJzWnbWggm0mpvViLTstRK5lAORac5h1v9d2pqYdZfsa3hP64MBJhU0AziWYIg48Aa64IN5DNtvzeDOyIMmk/s1600/photo+2-797404.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" nda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigkN7uK0vremqfhS4keCpcXc5YTIH6Q7XikkKpEwBdyfcS0CXjAhz4KbZIJzWnbWggm0mpvViLTstRK5lAORac5h1v9d2pqYdZfsa3hP64MBJhU0AziWYIg48Aa64IN5DNtvzeDOyIMmk/s1600/photo+2-797404.JPG"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First chop after hair started falling out in August... <br>
<br>
<br>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjClUA35uvuJpdoWZww_8CVxVV9gfvtL7HrRC04l8J6XZmDALP9Pr0Lzv4RQGdsptu2LU5j2nyydngCpABsb6rs5D2jIYK5xag762d0INlsvwHBBWB8twQp1OwXAyJsJOcH4IeQIAh4Nt8/s1600/302799_617558995866_120500623_32622690_1944806306_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" nda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjClUA35uvuJpdoWZww_8CVxVV9gfvtL7HrRC04l8J6XZmDALP9Pr0Lzv4RQGdsptu2LU5j2nyydngCpABsb6rs5D2jIYK5xag762d0INlsvwHBBWB8twQp1OwXAyJsJOcH4IeQIAh4Nt8/s320/302799_617558995866_120500623_32622690_1944806306_n.jpg" width="240"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">When it all fell out in September...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1mdEKxxtERhOHAM6NWM4UPD7gdtfZj2jLCeEkve4cUN-eUVH-RK8_eXpYX1b74wP4NtPZEGPHZ_6RlrhojTG7xksl5VzS6q-baS6k8CNqbGZOtISKxxZ5vxaaXafbCOSEpehMNyn5b-U/s1600/1002012112.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" nda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1mdEKxxtERhOHAM6NWM4UPD7gdtfZj2jLCeEkve4cUN-eUVH-RK8_eXpYX1b74wP4NtPZEGPHZ_6RlrhojTG7xksl5VzS6q-baS6k8CNqbGZOtISKxxZ5vxaaXafbCOSEpehMNyn5b-U/s320/1002012112.jpg" width="298"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">October 2011</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br>
<br>
<br><br>
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYg8gX741AE0vPnr-TuXFUK42X4uaBUx1k9xSwc03DCAXaSxNPiRC36X1RNJyjAZA7CPixp_fVXnrJp5pQKS1jhU7dHBjBYUrXIIexbH2UuBHb6YHwHchu-ldUTWXJcrQhfy7BoX4PRt8/s1600/photo+1-795194.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" nda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYg8gX741AE0vPnr-TuXFUK42X4uaBUx1k9xSwc03DCAXaSxNPiRC36X1RNJyjAZA7CPixp_fVXnrJp5pQKS1jhU7dHBjBYUrXIIexbH2UuBHb6YHwHchu-ldUTWXJcrQhfy7BoX4PRt8/s1600/photo+1-795194.PNG"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Halloween 2011<br><br><b><u>UPDATED PHOTOS</u></b><br><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYkQBZUsOkeH91Wlg_aJP6-g0aL1Rn9bP6fF_-gvRQdZCjHUJ3YVjkeIMr87fIajkpIDbcP5b6KSOYu3XwFdeA54JB4Uo2t_2WSTishcbppTbYXHzQ8bPTHoYbo1aI_BO0cWml_hfFJuU/s640/blogger-image--973485254.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYkQBZUsOkeH91Wlg_aJP6-g0aL1Rn9bP6fF_-gvRQdZCjHUJ3YVjkeIMr87fIajkpIDbcP5b6KSOYu3XwFdeA54JB4Uo2t_2WSTishcbppTbYXHzQ8bPTHoYbo1aI_BO0cWml_hfFJuU/s640/blogger-image--973485254.jpg"></a></div>November 2012<br><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBFkU8vnV3ME0UFTEIfwC-8hHslseemUlyy8MbKRN0ppuVK17-N4aQfW4HSoelyKvbhFrItB4WkJP92Q6WQ64QbkGvKqNIrSaQQ7nVhQ3yM6GyA-3IqAtttasIcejt6DCvGa1CaOuXv-M/s640/blogger-image--1602358862.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBFkU8vnV3ME0UFTEIfwC-8hHslseemUlyy8MbKRN0ppuVK17-N4aQfW4HSoelyKvbhFrItB4WkJP92Q6WQ64QbkGvKqNIrSaQQ7nVhQ3yM6GyA-3IqAtttasIcejt6DCvGa1CaOuXv-M/s640/blogger-image--1602358862.jpg"></a></div>November 2013</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Jerseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15902785554725426944noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4238687087551943430.post-1798512809176372122010-10-27T17:51:00.002-11:002011-09-10T12:13:52.886-11:00I Run Backwards To YouCome with me on a journey<br />
Littered with words falling down a broken highway<br />
Running from here to there<br />
As sunrise meets sunset and day becomes night<br />
The hour glass spills over into our reality<br />
Eternity scurries past my eyes<br />
As my soul eternally cries why<br />
And if only time could rewind itself<br />
I’d find myself backtracking past tracks<br />
Left foot behind right foot<br />
Down a rose adorned golden path<br />
Tracing back a dotted line that started with you.<br />
<br />
2 parts of a broken heart would mend itself to become whole again<br />
No longer two<br />
And the cold stares that we now share<br />
Returning to lukewarm glances that gave birth to smoking hot circumstances<br />
Inhaling and exhaling<br />
Til your breath became mine<br />
Your heart beat controlling mine<br />
Pulling my strings<br />
My lonely heart races<br />
Through countless embraces<br />
You buried your seed in my soul<br />
And in other places<br />
Naked bodies would be clothed then naked again<br />
In euphoric embraces that conjure dejavu<br />
You’d let go of my hand as tears quietly ran up my cheeks<br />
And hid behind my pupils<br />
Teaching anyone who’d listen how to open their heart and love<br />
But I watched thick brick sturdy walls fall<br />
Up and down to the sound of sweet poetry<br />
Whispering anything to me to get your arms back around this<br />
Sexy black lips locking in a kiss<br />
Face-to-face we sit still til your scent fades<br />
From nothing between us to nothing but space<br />
Fading fade fading away<br />
Til there’s nothing left to see<br />
And I wonder when my day will come.<br />
<br />
Treasure hunting has me scavenging<br />
Tick tock tick tock<br />
For this special clock<br />
That can abruptly stop time, shuffle and rewind<br />
To fast forward time or rewind to skip not so pleasant moments of my life<br />
A clock that magically allows me to<br />
Skip them as I run backwards to you<br />
Lost in translation<br />
I lose track of heartache and pain<br />
Held captive by the dissociative characteristics of a migraine<br />
As blame consumes the queen I used to be<br />
Optimistic me transforms into bitter, irate, and jaded me<br />
Frantically looking for a chance meeting to escape my reality<br />
Or perhaps a simple key<br />
Masculine is he that unlocks my dreams<br />
As he reminds me I’m carrying his seed<br />
So this journey of words and self-speak doesn’t ever have to back track<br />
No rewinding or intermingling of time<br />
Just sunsets and sunrises as the short hand dances in circles around time<br />
Til new life is here<br />
Marking the creation of my eternal flame<br />
I shall call him the truth<br />
And he is my new beginning.Jerseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15902785554725426944noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4238687087551943430.post-4243541822173479732010-06-11T06:34:00.001-11:002010-06-11T06:37:49.622-11:00Standard of Living....Ignorance is alive in America. I think we would like to think that collectively as a community we have made progress, but if you take the time to exam the issues plaguing our society in the 21st century, you’ll see that not much has changed. I think of how much Americans have endured as a people and even more so with minority groups such as African-Americans, Latinos, Asians, or even homosexuals. We have all at some point been discriminated against. I guess that is why it surprises me that people will continue to knock each other down instead of building each other up. This is something that happens within a race or even towards other races. It all starts with a little respect.<br /><br />Recently Houston based rapper, Slim Thug, earned himself some negative press as the result of an interview he gave where he in my opinion blamed black women for black men’s problems. The fact that he has an opinion or even favors other races over his own when it comes to dating isn’t the issue at hand. We all have our preferences. We have all experienced different things. I’m saddened that in this day and age, people are still quick to condemn and entire race based on the actions of a few. Regardless to what he may or may not have meant, he has a social responsibility to the public to be aware of what he says. He is not an everyday Joe and his words are magnified and heard all over the world. I am but one person and realistically how many people will ever even read this post? When you are a celebrity, you are forced to be accountable for your words or actions. Don’t stereotype everyone because of the females you deal with. Some guys are quick to boast about everything they have that they want people to be jealous of and in the same breath are mad that you seem to be attracting women that look for those same things you are boasting about. Starting to see a pattern yet fellas? If that is not what you are trying to attract them stop advertising it. Instead of making it an issue within ALL black women how about you evaluate yourself and the people you choose to associate with. Afterall, these are the people shaping your views and it is not representative of black women as a whole. If you find yourself always surrounded by the same elements, fix it! Open your pretty brown eyes and look the hell around! Who cares how big your rims are; impress me by reading a book or having an intelligent conversation. Are you a provider for yourself and your family? That is the main question that I want to know. I am tired of people who choose to not change their stars getting mad at those people that do. You can work hard. Nothing comes easy. Life is what you make of it. If you chose the low road, you can’t get mad at someone that took the high road; someone that continues to better themselves and their situation.<br /><br />Over these last few days people (men mostly) kept saying that women have high standards. Okay. That could entirely be true, but like most journalists, I had to ask what high standards were; a question that no man was willing to answer. At most I heard high meant unobtainable, but that doesn’t shed any light on where black men would like black women to be mentally. What do I look for in a man? In a word…SUCCESS. You may wonder what does that mean. It means that I cannot take on another liability. I am rapidly approaching my 30s and cannot imagine myself having to play taxi cab for my mate. He doesn’t have to be rich, but at 30, if he still makes minimum wage or close to it he can’t help me. Does that make me a gold digger? I say no. I’m not looking to be wifed by some NBA player with a multi-million dollar contract just like I’m not trying to snag the successful business man. I am however forward thinking and if we can’t support ourselves, how will we afford kids or anything that the future throws our way? I have no intentions of voluntarily signing up for a life of financial turmoil. Say what you want, but I’m sure most people feel the same way.<br /><br />We all get dealt the same number of cards, but it is up to each and every one of us to make the best out of the hand we are dealt. The only true losers in life are those that don’t even show up to the game. Life is a series of obstacles and each one that you are successfully able to overcome will make you stronger. When you look back over your life and all that you have been able to achieve, you’ll be able to smile; on the inside and out. Jerseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15902785554725426944noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4238687087551943430.post-67981803781946609772009-11-11T23:40:00.003-11:002011-09-03T07:58:27.846-11:00Riddle Me This....<div>Wasted time spent arguing and debating with simpletons. Yes I am confident in my own abilities to articulate my perception of the truth. I debated a seemingly simple concept with someone that claimed my strategy merely consisted of using big words to argue my point. Funny how some people think that they are always right and even will be bold enough to tell <em>you</em> how <em>you</em> feel. She told me I just didn't know it yet. Without any self control I laughed in her face; a laugh so good I could feel it in my toes and if only she knew how stupid she sounded, i'm sure she would've been laughing with me. </div>
<br /><div> </div>
<br /><div>I don't pretend to be the smartest person, but I am capable of logical reasoning supported by facts. As a result, I feel like anyone that can't comprehend the words that I spit at them, doesn't deserve my time or a decent explanation. I talk to some people and honestly I believe I'm being punk'd. But nonetheless its just more ordinary people giving me migraines.</div>
<br /><div> </div>
<br /><div>Sometimes I wish we could institute a standardized test for public speaking and anyone that scored below a certain point would be restricted to their living quarters. I <strong>HATE</strong> people that much!!! Hate is such a strong word, but it fits perfectly.</div>Jerseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15902785554725426944noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4238687087551943430.post-28795104636141875802009-11-11T23:35:00.003-11:002011-09-03T07:56:10.808-11:00I Should Be Studying...<div>I know that I should be studying but when the mood hits you, as a writer you should take pen to pad and let your mind free itself from captivity. I think more than the average person mostly because I spend a lot of time alone. When the noises subside and quiet is all that you have left, you'd be surprised and what you hear.</div>
<br /><div> </div>
<br /><div>My fears resonate and quickly grow from small concerns to life shattering decsions and I find myself quickly becoming a victim all over again. I am strong enough to beat just about anything, but the scariest thing I have come into contact with would be my memories. Memories that are constant reminders of every mistake and every good thing that has gone bad. Memories represent years of regret and oppression. I am shackled and chained to an imaginary hurdle that I have yet to discover how to escape it.</div>Jerseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15902785554725426944noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4238687087551943430.post-79689309566730914222009-10-20T19:38:00.003-11:002011-09-05T11:40:25.674-11:00Sexually SatisfiedLooking for him to invade my space <br />
<br />
I open myself <br />
<br />
He swallows the knowledge I throw at him <br />
<br />
And in return he gives me a taste <br />
<br />
He caresses my breast with a swift stroke of his hand <br />
<br />
His touch beckons me to his every demand <br />
<br />
My ghetto wordsmith plays chopsticks on my mind <br />
<br />
Working his way line by line to a predetermined destination...a predetermined time <br />
<br />
Before thoughts that were his genuinely become mine <br />
<br />
Pleasuring me comes first <br />
<br />
Riddled with metaphors and similes <br />
<br />
He uses like and as in the same paragraph <br />
<br />
Simultaneously and it has nothing to do with the tightness of my jeans <br />
<br />
He tickles my pink ribbon with hyperbolic dreams <br />
<br />
The things he says are never as they seem <br />
<br />
I am his toy; he playfully tantalizes and taunts me <br />
<br />
Leaving me hanging on each word <br />
<br />
Whispering sweet nothings into my ear <br />
<br />
"Can you hear me?" <br />
<br />
I embrace him and release more than just my fear <br />
<br />
I beg for more as he goes deeper <br />
<br />
Deeper into here; my core <br />
<br />
Being more than just a sexcapade <br />
<br />
I let him take me there <br />
<br />
Reaching out I pull him into me <br />
<br />
And 2 somehow equals one <br />
<br />
We reach our seemingly infinite peak <br />
<br />
A voyage that likes to touch but only mandates speech <br />
<br />
Tears fall from my eyes until my truth becomes yours <br />
<br />
The truth that what you share with me takes me on the greatest high <br />
<br />
Yet I escape the dangers of lust and promiscuity <br />
<br />
Your juices become mine <br />
<br />
We produce offspring <br />
<br />
Reading and writing between the lines <br />
<br />
An exchange of the minds <br />
<br />
That leaves you and I sexually satisfied <br />
<br />
<br />Jerseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15902785554725426944noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4238687087551943430.post-34066596582482868862009-10-20T15:28:00.009-11:002009-10-20T20:42:18.660-11:00It's easy to choose death, but it's hard to choose lifeSo it's the moment of truth. The moment that will forever ever change my future. I sit here at an empty table with nothing more than my laptop, my frappuccino, my favorite song on repeat and a vivid imagination to enhance my memories.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjayxBsyqDBegQ-E9CJCv1xMrlDhabqGUGtN01j57MiWpE78DPDsUF2HpAdJKhPEEMYb3mqtXcnoEOP7c4Rl4PN7wcuTd4CRyOp-qo0MhrDkA3qXlDk0DcBrehTxsjYR-NibTfPbzOo198/s1600-h/selhf-harm.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 156px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394905099870797138" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjayxBsyqDBegQ-E9CJCv1xMrlDhabqGUGtN01j57MiWpE78DPDsUF2HpAdJKhPEEMYb3mqtXcnoEOP7c4Rl4PN7wcuTd4CRyOp-qo0MhrDkA3qXlDk0DcBrehTxsjYR-NibTfPbzOo198/s200/selhf-harm.jpg" /></a>Today I listened to a song and it took me to a special place. A place I haven't been in so long and a place I hope one day I'll reside permanently. We are all a reflection of our pasts. Whether it's been good or bad, it has inevitably shaped each and every one of us into a person different than who we would've been if it didn't happen. Today, I sit here and type one of my deepest darkest secrets knowing that I will be embraced by few and judged by many; still I open up to you...my audience. Collectively you are comprised of people who have walked in shoes worse than mine, equal to mine or better than mine, yet I feel that everyone can take something different from what I am about to share. You will come to realize that secrets from our past don't have to be the end of our futures. Life begins with love. You gotta love yourself before you can expect anyone else to love you. And if you don't love you, you are in for one hell of a ride. I'm just learning to love me, but it's never too late.<br /><br /><br />This is the story of why I live.<br /><br /><br />Life. Such a sensitive topic that time and time again has been approached as a glass half empty philosophy (or even half full for my optimists). I am what I like to call an optimistic pessimist. LOL Allow me to explain myself if you will. I was born a happy little girl. I prided myself on being that smart girl with straight As that you could always turn to when you didn't know the answer to a riddle...shit or even life. But my life is nothing like I imagined it would be or anything like it could have been. Life is all about how we choose to respond to things and not so much what happens to us.<br /><br />Most of you that have been following me know that I started drinking at the young age of 10. How do you trace back a single event that would lead you down a road of unhappiness? I drank. I assumed that identity and I became <em>that girl</em>. It started slow and progressed into a serious problem for me. Iceland was great! But life after Jersey wasn't quite as pleasing to me.<br /><br />At my worst, I was getting wasted before homeroom and again at lunch. It was all that I felt I could do to make the days go by. My parents were clueless. They didn't know I was a drunk and they don't know what I am about to reveal. By my sophomore year in high school I was drinking Everclear and just about anything I could get my hands on. I had earned the nickname Alkie (for obvious reasons). I was depressed. So depressed I actually thought I could drink my way out of it. I laugh at the thought now as I look back on where I once was mentally.<br /><br />I remember days I would wake up crying because I didn't die in my sleep. Could you imagine being 16 and hating life so much that you not only cried yourself to sleep every night, but you also cried in the morning because you knew what the day would hold for you? The same agonizing torture day and night. A torture that I would've done anything to escape.<br /><br />I wanted to KILL myself. I popped pills and eventually settled for cutting myself. Yes I was a cutter. For those of you that aren't familiar with cutting, it's actually a pretty common phenomenon among our young people. Many say its a cry for help. Its the coward's suicide attempt. Of course many people eventually graduate on to committing suicide, but most of us are lucky enough to get help. And although I would never advocate cutting, oh how I can remember how soothing it was to cut myself. How soothing it was to take the power into my own hands. How soothing it was to control the pain that was hurting me rather than to just sit back and do nothing.<br /><br /><br />I scarred my body. I mostly used an exact-o knife that my mom had for sewing. Its a long cylinder with a sharp razor at the top. I can remember running into my room and locking the door and rocking in my bed sliding that blade across my skin as tears streamed down my cheeks. I felt better by doing this. That was me wanting to be <strong><em>brave</em></strong> enough to press down hard; to cut the right way. It was my attempt to escape the urge to crash my car off a bridge or into oncoming traffic.<br /><br />My thighs hid my pain...so much that I enlisted my hands to participate in my redemption. I distinctly remember the day I forgot my gloves and this girl from school saw the scars on my hands and threatened to report me if she saw it again. Was I scared straight?<br /><br />To be honest I cannot remember. That was the year I got alcohol poisoning and my memory still has gaps in it. I just know that after the incident my junior year, I could no longer stomach any liquor. So I did the only thing I could; I quit. And the cutting...well I don't know how I moved past that but I did. And I never mentioned it again. Well...until my freshman year in college when I was assigned a group project on self-mutilation and decided that I wouldn't let my story go unheard. I googled self-mutilation and found so many people who were just like me. People who knew what it felt like to hurt and how it felt to take control of the pain. That year I stood in front of a room of college students and explained how I felt and what led me to thinking cutting was all that was out there for me. My teacher pulled me aside after class and with tears in her eyes she thanked me for sharing my story; she thanked me for having the courage to share those painful words.<br /><br />When life throws us that almost fatal blow, we must have the strength and courage to pick up the pieces and move forward.<br /><br />So why do I live you are probably still wondering? In the simplest of terms, I live because they didn't. I live for my family that got their lives taken away so early: my maternal grandmother, her youngest son, my mom's only nephew, and my cousin who was my best friend. I live for them because they can't live for themselves. I live for every person that has ever been victimized and made a full recovery. I live for every person that felt the way I did, but didn't get help; every suicide victim. Every life lost; everyone fighting in Iraq. They are fighting for me so I can't make it in vain. It's easy to choose death, but its hard to choose life.<br /><br />I choose to live. I choose to put myself out there in hopes that someone feeling real down realizes I've been lower and managed to rebound successfully. We must face the past before we can move into the future. This is something that will not hold me back. This is something that happened and doesn't dictate my future, it just reminds me of the past.<br /><br />So this is nothing more than my "buck twenty five" or $1.25 for those who still don't get it. I have too much to say for $.02. To inspire is one of the greatest gifts man can give to someone else. Imagine having the power to make someone feel invincible like they can take on the world.<br /><br />I share my mistakes so you don't have to experience what I went through. My life is an open book; experience my story with me. This journey was intended for the both of us...and it all starts with love.Jerseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15902785554725426944noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4238687087551943430.post-14809021714396648132009-10-09T16:54:00.007-11:002015-02-02T00:22:09.684+13:00The Best That Ever Lived<div align="center" style="font-family:times new roman, new york, times, serif;font-size:12pt;"><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">They always said bad things came in twos.<br>So July 4th 2004 Mikey met his fate<br>And 8 months later to the day I lost you.<br>My life forever changed<br>3-4-5<br>Like hurricanes rain destruction<br>I rained agony & pain<br>So bad sometimes my heart stopped<br>Trying to figure out why you're no longer here<br>I point blame<br>Creating fictitious reasons to hate those close to you in your name<br>Constantly awakened abruptly from my sleep like it was just a dream<br>Tried to laugh away my sorrow<br>And thus the invention of what I called the suicidal gene<br>This urge that we feel is real<br>And life's this bitch that pierces your soul and cuts through your body like steel<br>And I know you were stronger than me<br>So the fact that you chose death over life<br>Is the kinda truth that kills<br>The kinda truth that finds me awake at 4 AM...writing if you will<br>An agony that leaves salt stains on my cheeks<br>And as I stand here in front of you<br>Listen to these words as I speak<br>Because they are more than just words<br>They are the collective collaboration of my sweat and tears coupled with grown woman fears and a life filled with pain<br>They are my story<br>It is my truth<br>It is the realization that how you live your life is completely up to you<br>It's knowing that in your darkest hour you have everything to gain and nothing left to lose<br>It is accepting that a bruise on your heart is nothing more than a bruise<br>And don't get it twisted</span></div><div align="center" style="font-family:times new roman, new york, times, serif;font-size:12pt;"><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">I write this for me not you<br>Because I see you in everything I do<br>Whether its hours of star gazing<br>Or searching for clouds that look like you<br>I see the truth and it hurts<br>A pain that I could never really describe with words<br>So I hide my tears and disguise how you see me<br>Riddling poetic words til all you see is this<br>My self proclaimed tribute to the best that ever lived</span></div><div align="center" style="font-family:times new roman, new york, times, serif;font-size:12pt;"><span style="font-family:lucida grande;"></span> </div>Jerseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15902785554725426944noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4238687087551943430.post-81766193164218946172009-10-09T16:54:00.006-11:002009-10-09T17:34:03.011-11:00Who Will Remember You<div align="center" style="font-family:times new roman, new york, times, serif;font-size:12pt;"><span style="font-family:georgia;">My world spins like whirl winds<br />Wondering will I ever get any ends<br />And when the hell my happy ending begins</span></div><div align="center" style="font-family:times new roman, new york, times, serif;font-size:12pt;"><span style="font-family:georgia;">My tears bring rain<br />That floods what's left of my sanity<br />I wonder what could it be?<br />I stare at my reflection aimlessly<br />But the image I see staring back just isn't me<br />My fake hair, fake eyes & big tits<br />Are nothing like who I use to be<br />Yearning for the intellect I no longer see<br />Whispering similarly to he loves me he loves me not<br />Til the sun sets and I'm just as alone as I was on my born day<br />But today I learned to realize</span></div><div align="center" style="font-family:times new roman, new york, times, serif;font-size:12pt;"><span style="font-family:georgia;">Broken dreams & heartache turn<br />Week days into weak days<br />And the words I speak just don't seem to resonate like they used to<br />Loud words fall upon deaf ears<br />From boisterous lips<br />As I clumsily stumble upon the realization that life is as good as it gets<br />You see...when the air inside your lungs cease to exist<br />Death is all you're left with<br />And maybe everything you complained about isn't necessarily shit<br />From the job you didn't get<br />To the husband or wife & the 2.5 kids<br />And if that damn picket fence still wasn't all it was cracked up to be.</span></div><div align="center" style="font-family:times new roman, new york, times, serif;font-size:12pt;"><span style="font-family:georgia;">Like footprints in the sand<br />Your memory will one day fade</span></div><div align="center" style="font-family:times new roman, new york, times, serif;font-size:12pt;"><span style="font-family:georgia;">And without physical artifacts,</span></div><div align="center" style="font-family:times new roman, new york, times, serif;font-size:12pt;"><span style="font-family:georgia;">Who will remember you?</span></div><div align="center" style="font-family:times new roman, new york, times, serif;font-size:12pt;"><span style="font-family:georgia;">Who will remember your words?</span></div><div align="center" style="font-family:times new roman, new york, times, serif;font-size:12pt;"><span style="font-family:georgia;">Unheard by so many but imagine </span></div><div align="center" style="font-family:times new roman, new york, times, serif;font-size:12pt;"><span style="font-family:georgia;">You buried and gone, but we can still hear your dreams</span></div><div align="center" style="font-family:times new roman, new york, times, serif;font-size:12pt;"><span style="font-family:georgia;">Calling out from beyond our world</span></div><div align="center" style="font-family:times new roman, new york, times, serif;font-size:12pt;"><span style="font-family:georgia;">And no matter how scary or sweet death may seem</span></div><div align="center" style="font-family:times new roman, new york, times, serif;font-size:12pt;"><span style="font-family:georgia;">You'll be far from a distant memory</span></div><div align="center" style="font-family:times new roman, new york, times, serif;font-size:12pt;"><span style="font-family:georgia;">I accept in life, there are things that I sometimes forget</span></div><div align="center" style="font-family:times new roman, new york, times, serif;font-size:12pt;"><span style="font-family:georgia;">But you, I will always carry with me</span></div><div align="center" style="font-family:times new roman, new york, times, serif;font-size:12pt;"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span> </div><div align="center" style="font-family:times new roman, new york, times, serif;font-size:12pt;"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span> </div><div align="center" style="font-family:times new roman, new york, times, serif;font-size:12pt;"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span> </div>Jerseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15902785554725426944noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4238687087551943430.post-82727752844682693082009-09-13T06:13:00.006-11:002009-10-09T18:24:52.378-11:00The Lies We Tell...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCjTXaxUqvGPNub7IwPXoNbgsmu4YE1IbfEZ8TyOCPBQzNiGxs1Ca5g7D3jdwHwdprNBCTGRTamRFLtUtntFf1k0_Nvp2Hxw0oMR1f_gLLQi3FFWaoVpW5JstdIL4EtenKD_tr490Mlrk/s1600-h/chris-brown-run-it-300-400-101206.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390837709929657074" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCjTXaxUqvGPNub7IwPXoNbgsmu4YE1IbfEZ8TyOCPBQzNiGxs1Ca5g7D3jdwHwdprNBCTGRTamRFLtUtntFf1k0_Nvp2Hxw0oMR1f_gLLQi3FFWaoVpW5JstdIL4EtenKD_tr490Mlrk/s200/chris-brown-run-it-300-400-101206.jpg" /></a><br /><div><br /><br /><div>Reality check! People love to look down their noses at people who they think are lower than them. We see it every day, but occasionally it reaches a stage to where I think it needs to be addressed. At some point in life the world's population was either young, stupid, or a combination of both. This mentality that you can fuck up and get forgiveness but are unwilling to forgive other people is one of the major flaws of our nation.<br /><br />Life is a constantly evolving hypocrisy. The judicial system is sometimes considered a joke because within it, there is no consistency, but the reality is that in today's society it's completely possible for serious crimes to carry a lighter penalty than minor offenses.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzgtYV1ZhzLgRJvJfO03bZGWgBFg04WiXnHNESswWoFkafApXyE-uHgsX9LaV-nasxRo8pAzwP3eVB1uLHvH1ZbkSh4oATf0fmxh4DSAi6LcqT7epshwQUcqlrzwdkhatEPFBenqJFTQk/s1600-h/chris-brown.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 133px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390837565654929682" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzgtYV1ZhzLgRJvJfO03bZGWgBFg04WiXnHNESswWoFkafApXyE-uHgsX9LaV-nasxRo8pAzwP3eVB1uLHvH1ZbkSh4oATf0fmxh4DSAi6LcqT7epshwQUcqlrzwdkhatEPFBenqJFTQk/s200/chris-brown.jpg" /></a>I jokingly posted a tweet today to Chris Brown (@MechanicalDummy)where I suggested that perhaps he should have thrown bullets at <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">Rihanna</span> instead of physically putting his hands on her. It was all in good fun, but the point I was trying to achieve is that it's become socially acceptable for rappers to throw bullets at each other and there is little to no backlash. I do not condone violence in any way, shape or form, but to look down at one person who behaved violently without a weapon but to openly accept his peer's violent behavior with an automatic weapon sends out a contradictory message. When is enough, enough? This is the precise reason that the world hates Americans. We walk around so smug like our shit doesn't stink like everyone <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">else's</span>. News Flash****It does!!!!<br /><br />I just ask that you look at yourselves before you stand at someone <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">else's</span> judgement. You are not perfect and neither is he or she. Time to wake up and make a change; a change that will make a better world for us all.</div></div>Jerseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15902785554725426944noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4238687087551943430.post-79870289895142609862009-07-20T17:57:00.005-11:002009-08-09T08:50:51.925-11:00Metaphorically Speaking I Died...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzXom1aStfp4VPIXOBG3oWBPdGbkU2OMY2nZr_01aqU5e7D7UMXj0T7SAkg2n8m3hYclrVdfS9fMro7PahyrygPrJ243Fx_Xg0elOpnkLIcY8IhUmS9qaCRjupVzAm9KFjsyDreOap6Wc/s1600-h/Friendship+Love.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 188px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzXom1aStfp4VPIXOBG3oWBPdGbkU2OMY2nZr_01aqU5e7D7UMXj0T7SAkg2n8m3hYclrVdfS9fMro7PahyrygPrJ243Fx_Xg0elOpnkLIcY8IhUmS9qaCRjupVzAm9KFjsyDreOap6Wc/s200/Friendship+Love.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368050270079852178" /></a><br />I try to go about my day and memories<br />Flash like lights<br />On runways<br />And I run too far away <br />When this day comes from distant plains <br />And the way we were<br />I wish I could steer away from the pain and hurt<br />But I wasn't ready to let go<br />And you got snatched away<br />Like band-aides on wounds and children from homes with futures doomed<br />And I...still remember the day our minds met<br />Like rhymes riddled with mazes I found myself in a daze<br />Wondering was this the truth <br />Or just another seemingly unimportant phase<br />Connecting across an imaginary distance<br />Visible to everyone but us<br />Like a fairytale I became engulfed<br />Covered in imaginary strings and your imaginary mystical dust<br />I gave myself to you openheartedly<br />I allowed you to take me there<br />Stimulating more than my mind and needing more than your words to speak<br />Calling my body and soul every name that made me continuously melt til I fell weak<br />And together we made sparks fly<br />So intense it burned<br />Shaping this interesting transition of love and irony<br />And his story became mine<br />Metaphorically speaking I died <br />More than one time <br />And his every word breathed life back into my limp unimaginative mind<br />So now...I write alone<br />Contemplating where did it all go wrong<br />Trying to figure out how I became the stranger lurking in his home<br />Betrayed like I was nothing more than an uninvited guess<br />Things went from cloud 9 to a rather large mess and<br />I gathered my belongs<br />Nothing more than me writing at my best<br />And did the only thing I could...<br />I left<br />Stumbling upon artifacts from those crazy days<br />I digress to that girl I used to be<br />Embracing my lazy ways and lackadaisical phase<br />Wanting nothing more than for him to acknowledge me<br />The way it used to be back when I hated amnesia and loved my memories<br />And then it hits me<br />I'm a queen and a prize and its him that doesn't get me<br /><br /><br /><em><strong>So this is actually a piece that started by the guy and then I changed and added to it. We initially agreed to collaborate on our poetry so I saved a lot of our online convos and mini poems that we shared. Hope you enjoy it. Comments...follows...let me know something. I love feedback.</strong></em>Jerseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15902785554725426944noreply@blogger.com1