Phone Check

Phone Check!

Phone Check 

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.

Hearts on Fire

LADY RY

ALL IN – I DO

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. DripStain. 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.

 

Food for thought

Mine,

I wish you.. Could hold me right now. Rock me to sleep.. Rub my head.. Whisper in my ear.. Tell me you love me.. Show me you love me..

I wish.. I could wake up tomorrow morning to your eggs.. Sliced tomatoes.. A couple of grapes.. I miss you. I wish we could lay side by side perfectly fitting.. Your face in my neck..
Ignoring ALL calls.. Breathing each other in. I yearn for your touch..

I wish I could do my eyes.. To match what I wear.. And hear.. You say you liked how I did them. And ask you to wear something to match me and you do.. I wish.. We could eat each other for lunch and have an ultra late dinner because we don’t want to let each other go.. I’m in love with you. I need “u” in my heart..

Yours.

Cocoa butter baby

Your so cool. Your so fly.

Green·Blue mood ring eyes.

Nobody could fill your shoes. My super sexy secret agent.

Mastermind. Mine all mine.

Can we chill? Slam a shot.

Grab the leash. Walk the beach.

No worries bout our sandy feet.

Rain boots work perfectly.

Just you & me & our four legged mixture of both our personalities.

Full moon. Sleep till noon..

Trying to control my urge to bite you.

Taste you. Cocoa butter baby.

All rubbed down. Mmm. Mmm. Mmm.

Bed time! Only a quarter to nine.

Come out, Come out, Where ever you are..?

Come out, Come out, Where ever you are..? I lay here and think… Where are you really? Under a rock? Behind a tree? Out of orbit? Globe trotting planet Me..? I can see your lost. Written all over your face. My own body I quickly steady to readily embrace. A stare down in the mirror. Focus. Lose focus. No single tear around here. Sobbing. Snotty.  I stare down this lost scared little girl glare. Come back to me. Come back to me. I hear. Spirit broken. Then stolen long ago. Running around here empty. A ghost of a soul. Fear has run almost everyone out. Compassion holds strong. A personally composed love song. The inner workings of me strung ever so gently.. The avenue which God has blessed me with to carry me through. Oh what a quest. The smallest realizations that the physical body is simply my sacred nest. Complicated encoded in another language from a dialect like no other seen before. More advanced than hieroglyphics in stereo. I decoded in minutes time. Me I am my penance. We are in the matrix here and now. Just a matter of opening the right door. Narrow. UN·wide. Wrong way no more. Turn the knob. Just choose a door. Door number one. Door number two. Door number three. A googolplex of doors surrounds me. Fear freezes me. Tick Tock. Tick Tock. Time waits for know one. Am I then someone? I open my eyes. Squinting. Everything so bright. Forgive me Father for I have sinned. I have committed murder in the third degree. My feelings of shame and loss of ego asks that you forgive me so I can move forward purely. Third or first it’s all the same. Cows slaughtered for my selfish fillets. Fear and pain they too feel. A pricey piece of veal. KILL KILL KILL. A deadly virus thought to be a needed program. Administrating the same result. Perpetuated murder. I reek of death. By conscious consumption. I understand pain. It’s taken over me tired with no energy fruit and vegetables. Nuts and beans. Vitamins and weed. Grown from the ground. Reacting to sound. My heartstrings tugged. No murder to take place. Heard it all a thousand times before. Dropping weight. Constant headaches. Discomfort confirms change. Change confirms growth = ↑up (= that much closer to GOD) So, many questions that no longer conform to the standard application carried by most. I upgraded my software, purchased my domain name and switched my host. I don’t want to live lost in my body forever. Haunted by my own ghost. I’m afraid to die in vain. I must open myself to change. Truly figure out a way to sustain for my remainder of time allotted to this short existence of time that shall determine my “true value and worthiness” on judgment day passed onto me for my choices while here in true purgatory every test perfectly placed and designed for etra•ordinary me by Divinity.

Conclusion: Mans best friend if I had to would I eat?

A: NO. Not ever.

Waiting password protected at the gate…

Years of ignorance. Outsiders looking in. Excitement and bliss ruled my sound world. Internally conscious. This took me my whole life. All the pre-programmed desires of needing to be a ridiculously financially secure mother and always desireable, adored wife and truly believing that was my “completion” in life. Now what do you think? Breathe, Hic-Up, Blink. Thoughts become reality (everything around you started with a thought). With the realization I truly am from another galaxy. Perfect as is? Yes & No. Defragment needed. Uninstalling this corrupted software often referred to as spyware. The very virus that quickly activates death-ware.  Stare yourself in the mirror. Look beyond the glaring insecure stare. Don’t stop. Trust. Focus. Quickly all becomes clear. Doubled. Freedom in air. Don’t break your concentration. So much deeper to go. You’ll know when you’re in stereo.

Not your average girl. Not just a trophy for show. Stop for a minute. The power with in me is on overflow and releasing uncontrollably for the Gods have taken control of me. Externally a vision. Jaw dropper. Car stopper. Moon walker. Any hacker could not stop her. You got her (×2). Reboot your system. Rethink your vision. With your eyes you’ve witnessed gusts of winds to a steady ocean floor. Even with poked out lips and baby baring hips so phat her heart remained yours. Energy level inside her you judged to quick. System crash. Zapped. Nothing left. Zip.

Never. Just, taking my time quietly kept.

In most real form. Priceless intruety. Respectfully internally. Blessed externally. Compatibility: Twin software you manifested titled “me”…. With all this… ignorant heartbreaking thing we title “bliss”  Defragment because you want to. I crashed my system and the rebuilds taken longer than expected. Kindness forgiving disrespect. A hold card never second guesses her place or dare ponder the thought of locked souls and pad locked gates. Learn me. Become fluent. My desires have changed. I no longer need any twenty-million dollar estate. I’m perfect as is at my teeny tiny not so usually generous so forgiving succulent desirable irresistable mouth-watering ridiculously perfection of shape.

I’m waiting password protected at the gate. P.S. Hurry up. Quit being consciously late. Upgrade?!?

© memoirs of a mastermind 2010