“i couldn’t help it.”

(best read if you listen to Joe Budden’s “Couldn’t Help It” while reading)

Part 13 of 13

As I tried to supress the tears, flashing back to all the nights I cried, all I could wonder was, “Why?” I look in your eyes and I see a mixture of frustration and desperation. Blood under my nails, scars will cover your skin. Where did the love end? Where did the disrespect begin? I can’t even talk to you. We’re both breathing heavy. People are watching. No one is helping. A scene under the streetlights. My keys almost in the gutter and your phone on the curb. My heart was shattering. My body was hurting. Neither one of us could speak. How did we get here?

I thought after the first time, you’d definitely stop. Between anxiety and the misery of my intuition becoming reality, even I couldn’t stomach me. I was sick. I was so sick. That soon turned to anger. Anger that I could do nothing about. I screamed and I yelled. You pleaded. Pleaded. I swear I thought I heard remorse, thought I felt respect, thought you felt me. The anger turned physical. Instead of letting go, where are we now? Damn, just miserable.  Then 6 months later I found myself going through the same. You wouldn’t dare mention her name. I’m in the street and some females were ice grilling me. I used to just smirk and cock my head- down for whatever. Guess that’s the G in me. I hid my broken heart so well. So perfect to the paparazzi but inside such hell. Finding pictures in locked places, “I’m pregnant” texts and flirtacious messages on MySpaces.

I passed on him, ignored shorty because all I could see was you. Back then, I used to wonder why couldn’t you only just see me too. As he’s inside of me, thoughts of you are inside of me. About how it used to be. Once upon a time when we lived happily. When we rode through the hood, meeting each other at red lights in our hoopties. Nah, these tears aren’t from ecstacy. I just can’t believe I’m letting him lay next to me. My phone is vibrating and I know its you calling. It’s 3am… around the same time I used to know it was her calling. How did I get here? Everyone used to tell me how lucky I was. Everyone wanted to have a man who loved them like he does.

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long gone.

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Part 10 of 10

Me and Newness have a love/hate relationship. I don’t care about your favorite color, but you can tell me why it’s your favorite if you like. Ask me what frustrated me today. Be random. Be honest. Afterall, you may not know me next week. You may not like me right now. Live in the moment and make me no promises. Stare when you speak. Smile with your eyes. Blush between your brows. Swim in the mystery of me. And if you’re feeling confident, backstroke. But pace yourself. I’m in no rush. Newness rarely becomes permanent and next week, if you know me, you’ll be old.

I hated his flashiness, but I was attracted to it. He stopped traffic; male and female drivers. He was so cool- so pleasant. His smile matched mine. Hello attraction. He was new. He was popular. I played him to the left. I smiled and smirked when I greeted him in passing- wished him well until next time.

“When are you going to let me take you out lil mama?”
“I don’t know…”, I shrugged, smiled and walked away.
I always walked away.

Six years later, I seen him. He was stopping traffic, being flashy. I admit, he toned down. It was raining. “I see everything is still everything.” It was his line for me when ever we’d cross paths. His smile matched mine. Everything was still everything. My familiar stranger. He was too warm, too comforting. New. New was too good to me over the past six years. And in the past 3 days, I was good to him. I listened to his promises, only expecting to simply wish him well until next time. I dove in his mystery and allowed him to get to me. He was my first. Two weeks later, I no longer knew New.

And he’ll never know me.

He walked away.

He was the first to walk away.

Get Familiar.


Part 2 of 2.

Late Night.
I stare at space and find myself lost.
You’re speaking to me.
While speaking to me, declaring you’re not speaking to me.
Is this a conspiracy?
We’re not seeing eye-to-eye.
Missing each other… literally… figuratively.
I don’t know whether to be furious, sad, or baffled.
No… I’m definitely baffled.
But, hey, atleast I know you miss me.

Exhale… smile.
But you’re upset… really upset. You think I’m dissing you. I think you’re dissing me. You know me better than what your mind is telling you to believe now. Diss you— could I, really? If so, wouldn’t I have so many times in the past? Where did we get lost?

I blink rapidly.

The ceiling is there, above me in the dim lights. Where you used to be. I tingle as I remember those nights. I miss you up there, in there, here. Love in this Club remix plays. I’ve had it on repeat for about two days.

Baby you know I’d be down
But we cant have all these people staring standin’ around
This right here is only for your eyes to see
But you getting carried away saying we can do it wherever.

“I Got You”, he says. And now, I’m missing you. You’re missing me. Figuratively and Literally. I tried to sub in an injured reserve. It didn’t work. You’re the only calm I want to make me quiver. And I miss it.

I smile. Atleast, I know you’re missing me, too.
Figuratively, Literally… Sexually?

Yes, definitely.
And now… I grin.

Photo: Sexalicious.net

Late Afternoon


Why? Because you don’t call like you used to… or when I need you too.

When I don’t answer my phone, you throw a tantrum– especially when I don’t answer it now. Sometimes it’s, “Where were you?” And other times it’s, “I know you’re fuckin with somebody!”

REALLY? Because if I were really fuckin with someone, I wouldn’t be feeling like a cornball for being so upset that YOU didn’t call. It’s been a few days. Don’t you miss me? Don’t you wonder what I’ve been up to? You don’t have anything to talk about— Well, me either really. But don’t you just want to see if I have anything to talk about… just want to hear my voice?

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