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.
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.
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. 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.
At thirty-five. I’ve lived a few lives in this lifetime of mine. Wild Wind, Billets Doux, Love Letters, Imagine Me, Memoirs of a Masterminds Hold Card, Hush Tan. ALL have made me who I am. I grind with grace. I grind like I’m a contestant in the Olympics race. It’s taken me until now to gain the courage to merge the characters of each of these chapters of my life. ALL of these businesses began with a dream. A glimmer of hope inside me that came to light. Mostly red. Hush Tan turned green and I have been fiercely on the GO. The sole bread-winner. I carry a heavy load. So many ask me how. Ask me why? I’ve chosen to live my current life. My “why” is quite complex. Every business I’ve ever started came from love. Has to do with love. Love is who I am. It’s what I wish to sprinkle ALL over the world. I’m currently doing it soul by soul. Inspiring. Lifting. Listening. Comforting. Dis-comforting. Then bringing them back with a laugh attack. This is my therapy. “Hush” has taught me more about me then any other singular chapter in my life’s work.
I’ve learned to trust. Have faith. Work harder than I’ve ever worked before. I’ve learned how to be alone. Not take on self-pity. I’ve learned to LEARN. Educate myself on everything and figure it out on my own. Sacrifice. Lots… and lots of sacrifice. I now know independence. I know what it feels like. I’m a solo business owner and a prison wife. I’m a dog mom. I’m a homemaker. I’m a cleaning woman. I’m a book-keeper. I’m a daughter and daughter in-law. I’m a step-mom, granddaughter, sister, aunt and cousin. What I’m not much of is a friend. I’m a great acquaintance. I have not mastered friendship. I can’t figure it out. I’m private. Yet I’m an open book. I don’t have time and people take that personal. I work a gazillion hours per week. I have four facebook, twitter, instagram and email accounts. Which ALL receive a mass messages. I’ve been reluctant to merge my lives. I’m now ready and realize. This is who I am. And to be successful. I can no-longer keep up with the divisions, the characters. I’m ALL-in. This is me. I’m Hold Card. I AM MAHRIAH.
My brother once said to me… which I’ll never forget. I said to him over that recorded prison call.. What if my clients find out who I really am? He said, are those clients you’d really want anyway? I said, right now I need every client I can get. He said, that is not true. You just need a few who are loyal. He then went on to say… Mahriah it’s normal for people to judge. It’s what we do. It’s our instincts. We judge everything and everyone. For instance, the guy on the corner holding the sign. We say to ourselves should I give him my last five dollars? Does he need it more than me? Even though he looks so clean?? We must judge. It’s when we pass judgement. That’s when we lose. We should never pass judgment on one another. We should never condemn another. That is wrong. We judge. We do-not pass judgment. It took me a long time to understand the difference and process that. I said isn’t it the same thing?! He said just think about it.
I did think about it. A lot.
My clients and I talk about everything. It’s a vulnerable position to be standing naked in front of anyone for up-to an hour. If they ask me a direct question. One thing I’m not is a liar. I’ve alluded to where my husband is. But, if they directly ask me. I’ve told a few. Which was not easy for me. Anxiety flutters through me. Will they pass judgment on me? Will they be afraid to pay with their credit card? Do they think I’m a bad person? Do they still trust me? What do they think of me? Do they think I’m beneath them? Will they come back? Will the word get out?
My brother said are those clients you would want anyway? They tell you their truths. Trust you with their pain. Do they deserve to know yours? Where do you draw the line of professionalism?
He’s absolutely right. I’m ready to merge my lives. #HUSH (now… you really know) #FREEDOM
I’ve been away for quite a while. I completely lost my passion for writing. I’ve been blocked. Just lately… I have felt the intense urge to begin writing again. A hunger within me. If you’ve followed my memoirs from the beginning. You’ve seen me at my darkest hour. And although I shared so much. I was still incredibly guarded. Paranoia. It did destroy me. My last post years ago. And now I write. STRONG. blessed. Progress-ion. A new frame of thought. I am still on my journey. A husband in prison. I grind daily. On a mission. For a better life. I’ve swallowed my pride. Learned to walk again. One step at a time. My confidence is back. I’ve earned that. My journey is one which should be shared. If you knew me… in this outside world. You might be surprised by my story. I share it with few. Where do I begin telling you what I’ve been up to?
Thank you for all the encouraging messages since I stopped writing. Through email, facebook and twitter. I appreciate you. My life was quite dark when I originally began this blog. It was my refuge. My way to release the rage, sadness, emptiness inside. You witnessed my nervous breakdown. You witnessed my rawness. My ending and new beginning. My life had collapsed beneath me and I had no idea how to fix it. Stop it. Accept it. Embrace it. I wanted to die. I wanted to DIE.
So, much has transpired. Eventually I shut down completely. I hated myself in such away. What I had become. But, still I did not completely give up. God never left me. Ever. I have witnessed more in my 35 years then most will ever see. I moved away from that magical strawberry scented beach town. Where I used to write. I love that place. I believe the sound of the ocean saved me. I was so high… not on life. Trying to escape the misery. But, the time came and I knew I had to leave. One of the hardest things I’ve ever had to face. Going back to my hometown. Home the furthest thing I felt. My grandpa. My rock. Fell ill. It was time. Time was ticking. This move would change my life. My brother was missing. Mastermind was gone. They took him. Again. I spent every single dollar on lawyers, marijuana, and never-ending bills.. while I wallowed in my self-pity. I promised my grandpa I would never forget him. I knew what I had to do. That time had come. My high gone. Rawness. Realness. Hollowness. I was frail. Meatless. Bones. A walking ghost. I slept on the floor. In my car. Not my new BMW. I lost that too. I had myself and my little dog. He is my constant. I faced humans who I share the same blood with that despise me. Frown upon me. Share the same air in the same room. Yet will not speak. I faced them. I faced them ALL. ALL by myself. I held my head. I stood my ground. Alone. Ready for battle. Ready for anything. Whispers. Snickers. Looks of disgust. I sat there. I stood there. And I was proud. I was silent. Lethal in strength. While each domino fell.
My brother surrendered. He was home. He was safe. He was back. My brother. My twin soul. My mirror image was back. My grandfather could rest. He was so tired. He was so ready. My brother was safe. My grandfather let go. For me three traumatic blows. At this time I witnessed miracles. Miracles that no words can describe. Feelings of intervention from the divine. My heart forever changed. I could never view the world again the same.
We awaited trial. Court rooms after court room. I’m losing ALL my men. Mastermind. My Grandfather. My brother. My stepson. My nephew. I am all alone. But, I have my constant. I have Capone. #TBC
Wrenching. Stench of terror. Despair. Scorned. Violently awake. Shaken. Shook. Crooked. Steep creep. Can’t. Won’t. Refusal. Refute. Futile. Denial. Cry. Pain. Shame. Infamous. STRESS. West. Longing for a bullet in the chest. Peace. Serene. Rest. Left.. Question.. Everyone. I’m the crazy one. Emotionally challenged. A beautiful wreck. With an elegant neck. Train wreck. Expectations.. Exasperated. Breathing on a ventilator. Unbalanced equator. Abuse. Used too. Abuser: Self made. Hatred. Shapeless. Darkness. Cartwheels in a past life. Distant eyes.. Lifeless. Shouted out. Permanent pout. Dazed. Unconfused. Forever bruised. Deep purple, cobalt blue. True. Real. Raw. Tell me have you seen her..? A fragment of what’s left of her.. Being.. Cream.. Dream… of that girl.. I used to know. Pure like winter snow. Darkened by contaminated guilt.. Spilled milk. Crowd control. Floored. In the corner. Holding my knees. Daggered. Watch my heart bleed Out. Crouching tiger. Hidden dragon. Drip drop. Tick tock.. Stop watch. Gods clock. Road block. Violation. Destination.. Space station.. Ready for take off.
Is this ALL a lesson to see what I’m made of? Crumbling. Numbing.. Mind blowing.
Breaking point. I lie here at 2:55 am. While the rest of the world is asleep. My insides in painful knots. My nerves and nails completely shot. Unhappiness and pain all around. Life so intense, in surround sound. Yes, my heart is made of glass. Fragile, under strenuous conditions I’m wearing fast. Today my last day of wearing a mask. I’m tired and tired enough to say it aloud. I am only in control of myself. This morning I am making a personal commitment to myself.
“I promise to love me first.”
Love.. as a whole is affecting me in ways only I truly know.. I understand love on a deeper level. I understand what it feels like to fight with ALL my might. I do not have the Midas touch. .
It’s taken me 32 years to “believe” that from this moment forward. I love myself enough to remove myself from anything that causes me heartache or pain. Not because I don’t care. Because, I’ve taken ALL I can bear. No longer accepting misery. To toxic to the air I breathe. The consumption takes over me. Becoming apart of me. Zapping little energy left in me. Spreading like wild-fire to ALL I love. No matter what. I am done. Enough is enough. It is me that I have to begin to love. Because at 3:14 my day is long over.. And it is still difficult to breathe. It is I that must nurse my heart. Wipe my tears. Cut through tension. Dissect the definition of perseverance. No longer running interference. No more. I stand my ground. This is my breaking point. Sound. No more face to face. I have said what I’ve said. Nothing more to say. This is me saving my life. A broken heart piecing it back together part by part. Some of them on back order. Foreign.. I love myself enough to say I’m worth more. Misery, discontent, hellbent. No more.