Heart wreck. Quick recover. Freak undercover. Four-play. Argue ALL day. Emotional display. Clarity. He instills in me. #1 concern ME. He loves me. He loves me I think.. a lot.Yeah right. He loves me most. No question. ALL-in love. Close overdose. No I guess. No hesitance. No I suppose.
A complete YES.
He holds my heart next to his. In his chest. Heartbeat. Sound check. My safe place. My save face. He is home. Intertwined bodies through a wormhole. Connected souls. Through prison phone. Everything about everything. He knows. Ruler of right. Apology of wrong. Forgiving of ALL. My obsession. ALL or nothing. He adores me. He glorifies me. Our love-story out does any movie I’ve ever seen. It’s so surreal. Outsiders think it’s make believe. He is the man. MINE. I’m not jealous I’m territorial with Mine. I am his lady. His partner. Significant other. His queen. His wife. His bitch. His baby. He knows my triggers and wholly accepts me as me. My off the chart level of bipolar crazy. He rubs my ass and spanks me. HARD. Over fifteen years he’s fluent in my DNA genetic matrix chart. He knows my favorite cock-tail. A splash of cream. I scream as he sedates me with his tongue. His voice. His words. His energy keeps me forever young. I age backwards. Zero to a Hundred in .2 seconds. He tranquilizes me in one sentence. Hypnotized. He always brings me back. That is a fact. Even if it causes him to almost break his back. His little monkey always attached. Needy. Greedy. He rarely complains. But, in an instant he will attack. He’s my everything. My crooked halo. My golden wings. No question we sold my platinum flawless wedding ring. Attorney fees. Do what we must. It’s ALL or nothing. It’s ALL about us. He calls the shots. Star player. I fully trust. I lust in love. Compulsive crush. Mad and deep. I kick and buck only when my gut flames up. Fire. Passion. I stand my ground. He respects my being. His perfect queen. He straightens my crown. He stands down. His crown jewel. He always listens. My greatest gift. My biggest wish. My absolute. I salute. HIM. I belong to him. I am his. 34.Qh8#. (NO) Stalemate. WIN-WIN. Dynasty.
He knows the inflections in the tone of my voice. He knows if I’m smiling or crying silently. He speaks me fluently. And when I cry myself to sleep I feel him. Holding me. Maybe I’m delusional. But, I feel his presence as I back my body up into him. I can smell his scent. I feel his beard against my neck. I wake up recharged. Maybe it’s because, when we fall asleep our mirror images meet amongst the cosmos and stars and as our avatars fill our space in beds. We can’t sleep. Take the pain away. We go through the motions and count down the days. The closer it gets the more I miss him. I check fbop daily just to see if this mission has an early completion. My heart I keep extending. Lately it’s got the best of me. I inhale my clients problems. I loan them my breath to help them breathe. I’ve had more than a handful tell me that hush goes into their therapy expense category. On Sundays I detox. My entire body physically hurts. I take my job home and receive so many texts I can’t keep up with my life. It’s taking away from my duty of being the perfect wife. But, he knows me so well. He helps me through the flames as I’m lost in hell. I follow his voice. He is my addiction. Understands the affliction. Suffering and self sabotage. Reminds me I’m worthy and of ALL my gifts. He encourages me to write. To regurgitate the suffering inside. Flush the Hushed life I lead. The thought of not having him I can’t even conceive. I’m so fucking tired of taking the lead. Some days I’m beyond tired of being strong. As the days get closer I dream about becoming a mother. My clock ticks louder with each day. I hate myself for the mistakes I’ve made. I could have a mini us. But, no fear took over and that gift was flushed. I’ll never forgive myself for that. I live with that pain everyday. His kindness and patience is how I self medicate. My fingers move so fast. I don’t even know what I’m typing. I do a spell check and publish the pain inside me.
This was a really tough weekend. I’m under the gun. I can’t even fathom the thought of having some fun. He says I’m wound so tight. I need to loosen up. I don’t know how. I’m on a money chase. I’m doing my very best to grind with grace when lately all I feel is rage. I’m back to my fuck you pay me mentality. My kindness taken for weakness is what I feel in me. I sip my baileys and contemplate. How I plan to win this race. Because, nobody remembers second place. I’m here to win. With him. I have the right to remain silent. I’m ALL in.
Suicide heavy on my mind. It’s been awhile dealing with these demons inside. They must have been on hiatus. Cause, I thought those feelings were left in my past attempts. However lately the heaviness is brutal. I’ve learned to fly solo. Rarely around others. Anxiety and awkwardness. My life passing. Opportunity after opportunity missed. I call this life “my life of sacrifice”. Gave up it ALL and now I sit in silence stalled. -out- Of energy, breath and confidence. I pray for a reason. I pray for a purpose. What I’m living can’t be why I was created. I had a dream. So, many dreams! I had it all mapped out. Never took no for an answer. I was all about the finish line. Bright lights. Red carpets. Mics waiting to see what’s next. I was always five steps ahead and now I can’t seem to keep up. I’m bored as fuck. I’ve let myself down and now I sit here all alone and feel like a clown. So much potential, promise and expectancy of all that I would do, acquire and see. Empty passport. I let that shit expire. I sit stagnate and cry in silence. They say you become like the five people you spend the most time with. In my spare time. I walk this line alone. Like E.T. the only place I feel comfortable is home. But, even here I stare at unpacked boxes. Three years later I forgot what’s even in them. But, still wont donate them. In hopes of one day having a home of my own. As this is not my home. It’s a place I most appreciate. A place I can come back to and feel a dash of safe.
Where do I go from here? What is my purpose? Can I do the job? All while I’m lost. Lost inside myself. Swimming in my head. I feel empty. I feel dead.
I’m sobbing. My heart is throbbing. I’m robbing myself of a life gifted to me. Who am I? Where am I? The morning after I’m an emotional wreck. This morning after pill I can’t bring myself to swallow. I take enough sleeping pills to help me pass this time. I pray I drift off peacefully. I feel hollow. In thirty-five years I smile for those around me. I make choices for everyone but me. My life is flipped upside down and I laugh and joke around. I’ve been back three years and ALL my boxes still packed. I can’t get ahead. I’m crumbling. I’m numbing myself to this lifeless existence. The formula I can’t figure out how to compute. Life is so hard and feel as though I’m reliving dazed and confused. The weight is so heavy my knees are buckling. I’m trying my hardest. It’s nearing Thanksgiving and I have no harvest. I’m so fucking lost on my journey. I can’t see straight and it’s ALL so blurry. You can take me now… I’m not a quitter. But, my body’s getting thinner by the day. My hair is falling out in clumps and my stress level is code red. I’m back on medication and every promise I made to myself I’m breaking. Will I ever be a happy person? Is that possible for me? I live in such a dark world. My head is pounding. My appetite is gone. I wake up to a fog and wait for it to set back in so I can fall asleep again. Fuck I was doing so good. How could I fall off so quick. I wish I had just one friend. Who knew me. Who knew who I really am. Someone I could lay down my hand and show every card. With out a word. They could see right through me. I need to write a will. I’m not going to kill myself. No need to worry. But, do I want to be here… Really? I ask myself what am I offering this world? What am I contributing? And I feel purposeless.
In my head. Need to be crawling into bed. I’m plottin’ on over drive. Slick. SHIT. I know.. where this mind-state gets.. me. Trouble or a double-UP. Fuck. Yup… I’m trusting my gut. YNOT? RYNOT. ALL day. Wheels spinnin. My smile on. Grinning. Ear to ear. The taste of your lips sooo near. FUCK. Drip–Stain. I love that kinda pain. Top secret. Switch. Loyalty is returned. I try to behave.. I really-really do… but, when there are so many options what’s a girl to do? Now that’s one glorious mind fuck. I never run outta luck. I got the heart of a hustler. The face of an angel. I write my own story. I blaze… in clouds of glory. I smoke solo. Han solo and Princess Leia. My love.. Yoda. May the force be with you. And also with you. I restore. Brainstorm in these Portland rain storms. Dream create galore. These basic bitches can’t compete. I smile first. No compete – Clause – Applause. I’m a billion dollar bitch. I’ll infect you with you my energy and you will never be quite the same. Life is a test. Life is a game. I never lose. Either I win or I learn. And a Queen always protects her King. Assessment report came back insane. Fuck that label rx game. I’m brilliant at this poker game. My life pressures turned my flawless. Hearts on fire. I gave up with out a tear.I knew what I was sacrificing and that sacrifice won me sixteen years. Talk about something real. That moment was raw. REAL. Off my finger. Moments flashed before my eyes. Whip-lashed my mind. On bended knee at Fernando’s Hideaway flashback on E you stunned me with your forever vows and a ring so perfect you silenced a salsa club rowdy crowd. I wore it true. True to you. And when it was time. I knew what I had to do. I slid it off… Placed it on that white mans velvet cloth. I watched as he removed stone by stone. Inspecting. Complimenting. Eyes twinkling. Off this lick. My heart hardening. Poker face. Fuck you. Pay me. Cold cash in hand. I always recount my money. I handed it to the attorney and told him bluntly to save his A$$. My clock is ticking and I need him back in time to impregnate me and feel our baby kick. I work hard for a cause. I work hard cause I’m hard.
Yet, I love you and you’ll feel it. You’ll judge me and I’ll absorb it. Morph it. Into strength you’ll walk away with. Skin therapy. I will meditate and replenish. Lightening speed. Lightening struck by me. Electrified. Touched by an angel. A stranger. You tell ALL your secrets too. Kindred hearts. Connected by a thirty minute session. I feel you. I’m listening. I’m transferring. I computing. I’m diluting the nonsense and sending you on your way with substance. You don’t even realize until it fully absorbs. But, I do… in your profound yelp reviews. My crazy serious loving impression will leave you in question? I got you. I’ll never share your secrets. You’ll come back for more cause I’m a mysterious soul. Bonnie and Clyde. Jay and Bey. Kim and Kanye.
Tony ♥ Ry. Dynasty. Monumental. Together we are our temple. Longest standing. Commanding. Duel respect.
To your life of nine to five rigid consistency. It’s okay. I’ll be that ray.. my light will never dull. I know. I’m full. On me. I earned this shit. Title: BOSS BITCH. Here hold my dignity real quick… I’ve got some sketchy shit to do. Never been a good girl. Raised in the hood girl. Chameleon upbringing. Racial division. Traumatic confusion. Hampton’s to New York City Lights. Beverley Hills to Toronto skies. Palm Beach to Oakland streets. My situations pretty situated. My intentions remain pure. However sketchy. I walk a fine line. When you’re a prison wife together you walk that line.