Saturday, October 4, 2014

Fuck

And honestly, finding a sugar daddy on Craigslist has crossed my mind quite a few times.
I’m tired of being broke,
And having someone else to foot the bill would be nice.
I’m tired.
There’s no lower feeling than having every single card you swipe decline.
I wasn’t being reckless.
Shit just kept coming up.
And now it seems that the only option I have left is to sell my life’s greatest possessions.
Fuck.
This hurts like a bitch.
My favorite things will soon belong to someone else and there is no other option for me.
I need a sugar daddy.
What’s a little something strange for some change?
When all I have to do is pretend that the worst isn’t happening.
…Pretend that my mother isn’t rolling over in her grave.
Fuck.
And there isn’t anyone to call.
There never is.
My brothers all have lives and we don’t even speak.
So many regrets happen when shit hits the fan.
I have sooo entirely much on my plate and no solution in sight.
And all I can think of is when all the boys told me I had a pretty mouth.
Maybe some man will want pay me to use it.
I never dreamed of being like this.
My mother will roll over in her grave.

Fuck.

Wednesday, September 4, 2013

How It Affects You.

Going, going, gone.
Pots and pans banging inside my head,
has been the only music that seems to put me to sleep.
Babies only cry when you've taught them to fear the sound.
And so that pure, soft sound of sweet serenity,
scares the living shit out of me.
Thanks dad.
Yo can never become too comfortable.
So never tell me you love me dear lover,
because I will be gone in the morning.
And if were too satisfied,
Than I will slip out before dawn.
Pots and pans banging inside my head,
has been the only music that has been able to put me to sleep
for the longest of times now.
Going,
Going,
Backwards footsteps race inside my head.
Dear dad,
I'd forgive you,
but these thoughts remind me that you're the one who cursed me to this chaotic lullaby.
You said no one would love me.
So far you're right.
Asshole.
Gone,
Each guy that has known me for more time than necessary.
Pots and pans banging.
Yelling, screaming,
Don't console me dear lover,
I've been broken for longer than I care to admit,
And stuck here for longer than I would like to be.
Thirteen sucks when you're twenty-four,
And Twenty-four sucks when no one seems to love you.
Pots and pans banging.
Yelling, screaming.
Dear lover,
I promise to leave a lipstick stained kiss to remember me by.

Harlem Nights & The Days After

My sheets still smell like you,
And that night I let my senses fall by the wayside.
Even now, I still feel like an idiot.
It took all of five minutes for me to become all wide eyes and smiles.
You must've  known then that I would be easy.
All I want to do is cry.
Cry that I let you.
Cry that I enjoyed it.
Cry that you stopped talking to me not two days after.
Does it make me a fool that even now,  at this very moment,
all I want is a call from you?
I would still welcome you with open arms.
My father was right; I am pathetic.
My self-esteem needs a hug.
I need someone to love what you and everyone before you seem not to be able to.
I hate you soo much.
I miss you soo much.
Harlem boy,
you broke my broken heart.
And now, I have to buy new sheets for my bed.

After thoughts

All this caffeine cannot be good for me.
All these sad love songs are forming a dark cloud over my head.
I need to revamp my playlists.
Nothing sucks more than remembering how many nights I stayed up past 3a.m just to talk to you.
...Just to hear your voice.
I promise my twenty-four year old self,
that I will delete my love sick sixteen year old ways from my heart.
Growing older does nothing but make us feel taller.
I wish I was sixteen again,
So that my idiocy could be explained away with youth.
Ill tell my daughter someday,
that it should take more than a month to fall in love.
Otherwise,
you'll just end up writing poems about boys who don't know your last name.

Sunday, March 17, 2013

The Last Poem Regarding You



I wish you were a bad B movie that I could’ve just turned off.
Truth be told, even if you were, I would’ve still stuck around
For a while longer.
Everyone waits for the ending.
There are no truths when we are in love
Trust me I’ve searched.
Tell me,
What were your plans Oh dear lover?
Be honest.
I promise you I won’t cry,
I promise.
I won’t be mad that you didn’t love me,
I won’t be mad that I allowed myself to feel for you,
It’s my fault really.
I let my guard down and boy was there a stampede waiting to run me over.
I promised you I wouldn’t cry,
I promise you that I will try not to.
You should know,
I never completely discarded the pieces of my heart you broke.
Pitiful I know,
They lead a path somewhere,
Hopefully somewhere that has solace waiting for the broken hearted.
For people like me.
I promised you I wouldn’t cry.
.. I guess that makes us both liars.


Monday, February 25, 2013

The Power of Insecurity

My first day living in New York

Boxes are barely unpacked and I am standing

Center floor and wide eyed in love

With the cable man.

He’s no celebrity like I’ve seen strutting down the streets of the Upper East Side

But I am miles away from my boring southern state

And boy is he handsome.

After the pleasantries of my origin story, he looks at me with his left brow lifted in disbelief

And with a thick urban accent asks, “And you left there for Brooklyn?”

I smile my awkward, sheltered suburban girl smile,

And mentally regret jumping on the first apartment listing for New york on craigslist.

He smiles at me and after finishing the job asks for my number.

I can barely hold in my excitement, and race around my apartment hugging myself harder than one probably should.

I wonder if this is the how all the pretty girls feel when they are asked out.

But even I don’t have time to daydream

Because just as my being fills with joy,

 The dark cloud of my insecurities hover over me.

This time, they skip the formalities and get straight to the point.

“He’s not going to call you.”

“You’re  just a joke.”

And like the last time,

And every time before the last,

I listen.

I agree.

I doubt.

And the negativity I feel begins seeping through my pores the moment I receive my long awaited call

For every compliment he gives, I have a reason he’s clearly blind.

And soon our pleasant and promising conversation turns into the one reason he won’t be calling me again.

He likes girls with confidence,

And sadly I have too many daddy issues unresolved.

He could’ve been the one.

Just like all the rest.

Tuesday, January 29, 2013

Mom.



Mom,
I tried to call you last night.
I nearly had a heart attack, as I frantically searched every book in our house for a number with your name,
And it wasn’t until the sun slept and the moon awakened that I realized,
Heavens number isn’t in the yellow pages,
And your old cell number is disconnected too,
And no matter how many times I call the operator ,
She wont connect me to “My mommy.”
So I sat there..
Staring at the four walls that have transformed from my sanctuary to my hell
Listening to the old church songs that no longer lift my spirit
Because how can songs lift a spirit that is in pieces?
Mom,
Your scent is no longer in your clothes
And those pictures of you and I smiling as if there is no more happiness in the world to attain
Have faded
And every object that you once touched so freely,
Has been packed into boxes with no name,
The sound from the tape sealing them shut made me cry,
The movers came and no matter how much I pleaded and begged,
They still would not resist in taking all I had left of you away
So mom,
I grabbed my jacket.
Running fast as I could and ignoring the pain that my deep breaths caused.
Ignoring the stares of school aged children sitting with their mothers and fathers,
I ran faster than I ever have.
Because mom ,
They are taking all that’s left of you in small brown boxes to the ends of the earth
And so to the ends of the earth I will travel to be with you,
Mom.
                                                                                               

Tuesday, January 22, 2013

I Want To Be In Love

I want to be in love...again
For real this time.
I mean no bullshit or holding shit back .
I mean,
I really want to be in love.
I want to get those butterflies in my stomach,
And have those thoughts of passionate love making after a perfect date.
I want to smile at something I remember you saying days ago.
I want to be okay with wearing my favorite socks with the holes in them around you,
because you like them just as much I do.
I want to be in love...
I want to have those one and two month anniversaries celebrating the first time you made me smile at something silly,
And hold hands while waiting in line for a movie.
I want to smile more times than I cry.
And I want to know that you’re ok with me not being stitched together perfectly at the seams.
I want to be in love with someone who wants to
be with me just as much as i want to be with them.
It is love that I will forever be in pursuit of.

 
                                                   

Empty Spaces

Our space seems so empty.
Filled with nothing except two cups of chilled coffee.
Mine with all the fixings...complicated even,
And yours black...straight forward and unchanged.
No aromas float intertwining into one,
Those days have been long since forgotten.
And the heat that made us jump from a mere touch?
...well its no longer there.
there's nothing fascinating about us
anymore.
I no longer love you .
Not because I no longer love you,
But because you no longer love me.
And well...you won’t know the extent of my pain if I don't equal the playing field.
Our space seems so empty,
And yet its filled with everything I’ve ever felt for you.
All those “I love you’s” and “You complete me’s”,
Crowd the air like a gang of clouds right before a storm.
Mesmerizing even.
And yet you don’t get it
you never did I suppose.
you never loved me.
And you never will know how much I wish you did.

Tuesday, December 18, 2012

Kids Of Summer (Unfinished)



Our days were spent as if there wasn’t a care in the world
And for a short while, there wasn’t.
The beach was our haven
And our rented summer house was a place where
If we imagined it,
It was attainable.
But that was the dream they sold us.
Come for a visit
And maybe even stay a while
The ocean’s out back
And every picture you post of the “good life” will make you the envy of your friends.
It’s the good life they said.
And it was the good life that we were searching for.
But that was the dream that they sold us,
And the dream?
The dream is what we wanted.