Sometimes the best medication is to 


And then strike a muthafuckin' pose.   

*puts dogs on leash and walks to NYC *


Fuck.You. …..(Ijuswantedto)


……………….****** new shit ******

Wrote this yesterday….well, there is plenty more to it than this…lol


“………………..I wanted to just fuck you and you wanted to make me become obsessed with thinking about how the most ordinary things seem so supernatural when you do them,

This is how egg ends up on my face

I just wanted to take a taste of you

A piece of you with me and I could pretend solidly that, that would be enough and leave unscathed

Not going for days wondering if you have thought of how good you make me feel

You don’t want it with me

Not Love

I love with all of me,

I don’t know any other way to live

And I will give you the world if I have to create, shape and stitch that bitch with a needle and thread myself, but relationships on my watch have shelf lives

And we shouldn’t complicate our environment

We could have been kissing friends

Beneficiaries cashing in

We could have fucked until our bodies collapsed next to each other

With my arm across your chest….temporary…..

I could have woken up and gotten dressed with the popped cherry

I could have left,

But you insist keeping me here….on making me dreamy eyed,

You putting the cover over my shoulders baby when you see me getting goose bumps, why am I so relaxed with you

Arm not just limp on your body, its measuring your heartbeat, so when I leave, I can keep you alive with me when we are apart

Yet you claim not to want this to be, not this deep

Got me locked and loaded in the sinkhole

And I’m telling you

I see it

Too much already, too good too fast

Too far beyond a piece of ass, an orgasm that lasted longer than ever before

You wanted more off my end

To rope me in

And to hold me close

And make me listen to the sound of the newness


Dew on grass tips……..”


…..yeah I’m trying some more boldness in my writing.  Less filter, more what I’m REALLY thinking. I also think I’m in the midst of a temper tantrum. …perhaps lunchtime should be now.





This will be short and to the point....

how come it is MORE easily believed that a person KNOWS something isn't right ???

Why is it more widely acceptable to  trust your instincts when they are telling you to go the other way ? Or WARNING you against something ????

How come we believe the negative more easy than we do the positive ??/

How come when i say, i KNOW,
and knowing what i know is positive,

how come thats less believable.....to both my confident AND myself.....as much as i know what i know....i know something down to the pit of the soil at the bottoms of my shoes....


So how come its easier to believe that i know whats WRONG more than it is believable that i know......whats right.....

whats right
in front of me ?

I won't circulate this blog....but if you read it, just know that i KNOW exactly what i KNOW.

And i know something.

fearfully amazingly beautiful.
I trust my instincts.  They've always tried saving me before.  Why not TRUST them this time...  + positive. 


Against A Crown Hill Concrete Slab

People wonder…..
I know they do….i can’t say, if I weren’t on the outside of my mind that I wouldn’t wonder as well….. “why the fuck is she always doing photoshoots and who does she think she is ??!!!”
I know somewhere, someone has wondered…even if its just one…I hope its just one.  Because its really a stupid question……the obvious answer is I’m always taking photoshoots because I’m a grown ass woman who  gets to do whatever the fuck she  chooses……but then, that last violent-ish sentence could be PMS inspired.  Yeah, I said that too…..
I think this will be a pretty filterless blog to say the least…..
I just changed my profile picture…..i look at profile pics like smileycons…..i know that’s crazy, but to me, pictures  tell my mood just as easily and more telling than a yellow cartoon face with a link to how I’m “feeling”….why not just use my face to convey how I’m feeling….when I’m down, there are a handful of pics I choose from to make my profile pics….when I’m beaming about The Sir, there are pics I choose from and I’ll be damned if he doesn’t know at least one of them is inspired by him…..sometimes I’m too obvious…..when I’m thinking of my mom, I use pics of us and so forth and etc…..point being, I change my profile pic as because I look at it and my cover pic as smiley faces and because I’m grown and I want to and can’t be bothered with what people think about that, just like I can’t be bothered with what reasoning people have taken the unnecessary time to create as to why I do photoshoots with seemingly little to no purpose.  Although, a lot of pictures from different photoshoots, even some in the bathroom, have been used….quiet as kept, one of my book photos is a bathroom studio session….LMAO! I mean, hey…..at least it doesn’t look it ….lol…..seriously tho, the reason I do photoshoots is one, I used to want to model.  But I’m too short and got too much meat on my bones, so that was never gonna happen in Haute Couture, so a part of it really is just me playing model and getting more and more comfy in my own skin, which is something I haven’t always partaken in.  But the main reason is to capture the glow of my emotion at that time.  Every time I do a shoot, there is an air of love, happiness, internal joy and peace living inside of me.  Each shoot, each dress and smile and pose and facial expression captures something  different that maybe no one else but me sees, but it takes a whole new journey when I look back at it.  I can remember the time and the place, where I was at mentally and what was happening around me.  Who was with me.  Who I was with……each shoot has the purpose of capturing those times for me because I have deemed them important enough that I need to be able to look back and venture into their memory with photogenic ease.  ….sometimes when I look over old shoots, I tear up at remembering what place I was at.  As much as they are about snapping a frozen shot of happiness or a ‘happy period’ of my life, sometimes these shoots have been a case of “show must go on’’ and when I see them, I am reminded of pains that were taking place underneath smiles and stretched arms.  I always got my arms stretched out.  Its my go-to pose when I can’t think of nothing else.  LOL. 
But that is the reason for my photoshoots, as if I needed to explain that.  This last shoot I did was about embracing me.  It does have an err of sexy-sauciness to it….i know.  * shrug *  But a part of it, the part that I see more than anything, is the part that hides the shadows of darkness.  The lone person in a long dark blurred out hallway of life.  Staring out the window for freedom….dressing for the part and relaxing for the incoming.  Idk, I see a lot more into these pics than what anyone else will.  Its just…..idk, so much deeper and with more meaning than looking at myself ….i’m not vain….i have a whole side of my body that I am insecure about …..i feel like my flaws show and everyone can see them ….everyone is staring at them……yeah, I go thru my own motions of ups and downs…..but none of this is even what I started blogging for.  I just changed my profile pic from an old picture of me and my mom, to one of my new pics and started writing.  That is what came out ^^^^

But what I wanted to talk about was how I got into a shouting match with my mom, over my dad’s house and ultimately ended up leaving out the house and walking home at ten at night, which ended up being a lot more paranoia-ing than I expected…..next time I end up in the car with that woman, I need to make sure to have my mace or my stun gun….because if I’m gonna need to break free from her, I need to at least feel secure in my walk.  Last night, I left out and ended up sitting at Crown Hill Cemetary, in front of the gate crying indefinitely. . …I just sat there, against the grey toned concrete slab, listening to the cars roar down 38th street….i was near the corner and it was bright but no one could see me where I was sitting …..if I wanted to sleep there, I could have…..but it was cold and I live around the corner sooooooo, yeah.  Negative.  I stayed there for 15 or so minutes trying to gather my thoughts and figure out whether I needed to pray, jump in front of a car or wipe my face off, keep my eyes peeled for people walking behind me and STAND. …..i chose the latter…..
That woman will never know how much I really loved her.  Love her. 
And I will not tell her….and I’m not a bad person….but I won’t be beat up on…I won’t be the go to girl for a punching bag…I retired from that position…..i won’t be the great disappointment of the family and I wont take on living for no one else……I was recently sent an inbox by someone I once greatly respected around the poetry scene, of which changed after he referred to me and a friend of mine as bitches for laying on the ground eating  (like dogs, as he put it) ……that’s a long story….but this inbox I got from him, he referred to me as ungrateful and stupid.  And it made me think long and hard……I’m not the one to just get upset or mad…..and I’ve learned to not to respond immediately to stuff that makes me feel “some kind of way” …..so I thought on it …LONG.
Am I ungrateful and to how had he come to this conclusion ???? Am I stupid ??? And where did he get this from ???

I feel like I’m neither.
And I feel like he’s an asshole. 
And I feel like the poem I wrote in response will suffice as what I think about a preacher who continuously has to create a new following because of message gets lost in his translations…..sometimes you just shouldn’t eat the fucking chicken, but I digress…..
My whole point for bring that up is I know its ok to dismiss outsiders …..
But is it ok to dismiss moms ????
How on earth am I supposed to get by with NO relationship with my mom……I struggle nonstop with that….i live next door to my mom and there are days when I just know she wishes she had of aborted me…..and there are probably equal days that I wish she had have sucked it instead…..
She has a way of making me feel like I have accomplished NOTHING in my life.  And that I am of no good to this world. And I guess I have a way of making her feel like a “step parent” as she put it last night.  And I have a way of making her feel like she doesn’t matter……
But its pure accident….
I just flock to where the Light is….where the Love is….honestly, my mom is like a snuffer in my life…she snuffs out every ounce of a smile and happiness from me to a point that when I get around her, or in confined spaces with her, I say nothing at all to prevent my words being misused, mis-repeated, poorly handled or otherwise twisted to create some beautiful lie of a story.  But I am lonely for her……
I am lonely for my mother.
I am lonely for her to look at my pictures and think she created something beautiful…..to think that she did something great….that she brought Light to this world…..
I yearn for her acceptance …..for her to care about these tears ……and to be excited about my book…and these shows…..and this undying fight and desire in me to WIN…..to be successful….to make a fucking REAL difference….to not be guided by money but by my heart….why can’t she see that OR why can’t she see how hard I’m trying to fucking impress her….and for none of it, she cares….lol…..and for her to see me performing and FEEL something beautiful from it instead of a reason to get pissed off…..i wish for her to have been the person I needed when there was a deficit in my life….the things I want to say right here, shouldn’t’ even be said on this blog …..
I just yearn…..
For my mom and the audacity of her telling me she feels like a ‘step parent’ when I feel like the abortion she wishes she had’ve done herself is almost comical….but the tears remind me that no one is laughing…..i left her mothers day card in the mailbox this morning and thought to myself, if I could just move sooner than later, I will cut all ties with my mom….because as much as I love her, and I swear to Jesus Christ and back that I LOVE my mom so much…I NEED her so much ….i neeeeeeeed her……shit…..i wonder if anyone can feel that beat in my heart when I just typed that shit, I NEED my fucking mother so badly, that I could vomit about it right now cause I know I will never have her….everyone else can have her….but she will never give me anything more than materials……
I like my materials better when I get them myself…all I want from her is for her to be my fucking best friend…..i feel so internally lonely without it…I always have and I always will and I will always seek and lean toward the LIGHT and LOVE …where ever it is coming from …because I know I will never have it from where I need it….and idk if that’s good or bad, but its definitely the truth…..
…..but with all this, I refuse to let her emotionally kill off whats left of me.  And how does that even work ??? How do you CUT OFF your mom ??? I mean, what if something happens to her ??? What if something happens to me ??? She carried me here....gave me life....gave me food, nourishment, she's had my back when my finances failed or when i failed my finances, she bought my house to live in (which is 90% of the problem ...for now).....she has without a doubt done her best....but she has never really known what it was i NEEDED or provided it ......and i dont fault her for it......honestly, all i REALLY want, is for us to just.be.friends....SHIT>
....how much life do we have left ..>>????? Who would throw the biggest fit if something happened to the other ??? me or her ???? I think about that shit....i dont want to end this life w/o my mom in it but i dont know how to continue it with her in it .....MFFW.....i EXPLODED last night...like a bottle rocket.....or a molotov cocktail...i mean, once my mouth opened up and words came out, i couldnt stop and my voice got louder and louder and when i think back, what if something happened to my mom while i was at work ??? HOw i would i feel ???
Shit, how did i feel about walking home tho ???  If in the event i could have kids (or if i really can), i WILL NEVER let my daughter feel like i've been left to feel.....

MOtherless with a breathing mom. ...shit is bullshit.

So I will just keep changing my profile pics …..
And taking photoshoots trying to capture those times and moments where life feels good….when the smiles can be created and manipulated and played with….because God knows in MY particular life, there will always be a day around the corner where I might get in the car with my mom and end up sitting against a concrete slab at Crown Hill Cemetery crying……
And ultimately walking home….
Oh and the dude that stepped out the door and started walking behind me last night….yeah, I ALMOST wanted him to try something….THAT shit would have been on the news….



Art of Storytelling.


It doesnt have to be a love story.

But it needs to be a story worth reading into.


A Sunny Rain Dance w/Hands


They say when one door closes, another one opens. 

I’ve done a lot of door closing.  If you are an avid reader of this blog, that is info you may already be privy to.  I closed the one door that I thought was holding back from the future awhile ago and every since then, its as if I walked out into a sunny rain-dance and never stopped to grab my shoes.  And boy does the water feel good on my feet. 

I walked out first and The Sir was right behind me.  I didn’t know if it was snooty or not to stop at the door and let him open it for me.  I guess if the man leads, then that wouldn’t be an issue.  But our exit left me in front so instead of stopping at the two doors, I opened them.  I opened the doors.  And walked out into a sunny rain dance.  I never heard the second door close but I did hear the sound of the lifelines on my hands as they rippled with electricity upon smashing into his. He grabbed my hand the moment we walked out.  I don’t remember the last time I held hands.  Or skipped in the rain.  Or looked up at the night sky while my head leaned on a warm shoulder.  But here we were.  Less than five feet from the door I walked out of first and he interlocked his fingers with mine like we were professional romantics who never wanted to leave that moment.  Dare I say everything stopped.  My fingers grazed his hand as best as they could.

I touched knuckles, fingernails, fingertips.  I felt his truths, his lies, his flaws and his reasons….all in one hand hold.  For the short time it was, it was infinite to me.  This is that extraordinary, ordinary that Maxwell sings about on his CD.  How could something as simple as a hand hold become the cause and cure?? The rhyme and reason?? How old am I ? Who does this ? Why have I allowed myself to be deprived of DESIRE and ROMANCE to the point that things like this make me mentally somersault repeatedly until I fall out and bust my head open. ….lol.  Its true….  I stepped over the heavy puddles of sky water that collected in different spaces as we made our way to the car.  At times, that made our bodies move further apart in opposite directions.

But our hands never let go.

To the back of the car we ended up at the finish line of this hand meet-n-greet.  Suddenly we were silly teenagers.  We were people enjoying the moment.  The time.  The seconds that moved softly and slowly across time.  He pulled me towards his body and played lip games and teased each other with long stares, smiles and deep hugs that penetrated parts of my soul that may never release that feeling.  Finally we let go.  Dinner was over.  The short walk from the restaurant to the car was complete.  And our hands…….well at least MY hands, felt like they were internally shaking with lusty excitement.  His hands had turned on mine and they were now desiring him to touch them again.  But we didn’t.  He went left….i went right….

And we got in the car.

The same car 

We would do it again several more times that night in between walking, talking and making up stories about random things found downtown.  Yeah…..our hands made love and our eyes never gave up the key to the lock….if our hands were our bodies, it was like they were in the middle of a deserted parking lot doing things no one should see or hear about later…..

Our hands….had their way with each other.

Our hands never stopped touching each other…..all night long, our hands rubbed and caressed and held …something.  Nothing was sexual but it was all intimate.

It was all romance.

The one thing I’ve craved and dare I say needed for the longest was finally given the go ahead to come into my life.  I closed off a door with steel, concrete and a brick outer layer, and opened up double French glass pieces of future, looked around and was covered in what I been whining about….desire.  But in the recent weeks, I started to realize something…..its not desire….

Or not JUST desire…..

Its romance.

Its intimacy. 

And its desire…..so in the event that D word doesn’t cover romance and intimacy let me just say there is nothing like it in the world.

The next time you with someone you love or adore or just like a lot, grab their hand.  Hold it.  Let your conversation happen between dark lines on your hands.

And don’t just hand hold. Hand explore.  Learn a lesson or listen to a joke expel from the wrinkles across his/her fingers. 

I tell you…..there is no more right on time than The Sir.  I’d be a lie if I said he doesn’t have my undivided attention.  But I’m pacing myself.  Fearful and scared…..nervous and wondering……

But not wandering.

I’m planted.  We fertilizing and tilling a new garden and I have no idea what will grow but all I know is right now, what I really need to say more than anything, to the person I deem especially special, is Thank You.  (see prior blog).  I honestly couldn’t think of a better person to share this sunny, rain dance with.

Yeah.  A fucking hand hold caused this blog…..

Now I want to write a poem about holding hands n shit. O.o   * sigh *  Please don’t let me sink.



God placed you in my life for a reason…..

no matter the outcome of this

no matter what ends up happening or not…

even if ‘we’ don’t end up ending it all together


I will always remember how beautiful this was for me to experience. 


So if ever I say thank you

And you know not for.

It was for being you.


#StopTheWorld...Imagine if it were You.

“Did the world start back yet?”
We laughed….
we had stopped the world days ago…actually, it was only hours ago….or maybe over night…some where in the midst of pausing Earth’s rotation, I lost count of time.
The hours started blending together.
The daylight folded into night darkness but from the moment I walked in his door to the one lit Yankee Candle on the counter, flickering like an S.o.S. of my initials, all consciousness of things surrounding us was turned off.  The only thing that became existent was the folds of our skin….
the locking of our eyes….the laughter that we threw in the air and watched turn into diamonds.  See, he says when I smile, there is a part of one of my eyes that has diamond shine.  I told him that his smile was THE premiere smile of the Century.  I had never before been in this close of proximity with one so gorgeous and it was my intent to make it appear as much as humanely possible.  We laughed at our cheesy game time plays…..he ran his hand thru my hair several times.  Once while we were in the kitchen. 
I told him I desired to cook for him and on the menu for the evening I’d chosen to make my famous chicken fettuccini w/a special dessert.  An apple crostada; because all teachers should have an apple Winking smile 
And teacher, he was.  He taught me something in those hours we spent forgetting the rest of everything.  He showed me how to extend my arms, lock my eyes and breath….until the world halted on its axis.  We practiced and I was tested all night long.  Sexual ? No….this wasn’t about sex.  We were mentally somewhere on another planet.  We weren’t mars or Venus or even Saturn….with its rings.  Nope.  We were …on the undiscovered.  We’d locked our minds in a spaceship and catapulted across the country and outside the boundaries of Earth itself. 
Our minds were galaxies of stars and shit.  Yeah.  We picked stars like roses.  Mental gardens.  And this night, that started in the late afternoon hours after work, had become the night of firsts for me.  Not only had we spent months and months talking and exchanging ideas and thoughts, jokes and stories, rainy days and fun dates; we had built up an exuberant amount of anticipation.
We laughed all evening over dinner.  We watched movies, we watched TV shows.  We played silly games and stopped several times in between all these things to kiss, touch and stare.  Gazing back into the space of each others eyes again.  The way the room would go silent, despite the faint sounds of our chosen background music, you’d almost think you could see the electricity of our connection extending from one another.  Our breaths often became the conversation of the moment.  Me on his shoulder.
His chest. His hand in my hair.
Him on my legs.  My hands circling his arms.
We breathed together.  Nothing else was happening.  There were no cars outside blowing horns over barking dogs.  There was no violence, no harm, no trash being thrown out of truck windows.  No crickets.  No grocery stores open.  No planes in motion.  No. Nothing. We stopped the world.
All night long, we stopped the world. ….together.  As if it was something we were professionals at doing…..either that or the natural pull between us could no longer be denied.  We went on to string our bodies together to create something like abra cadabra…we definitely made -  something…...perhaps not love but a stronger version of “like’’…we made….a decision….one that ushers in the intensity….of everything…his kisses combined with strong pushes could have made fireworks stop mid-blow.
his touches were full of sensuality …our intimacy left me scared….
nervous even.
The next day,
I woke up to him walking in the room w/two glasses of orange juice and a toothbrush still in the package.  My scarf less hair stiffly bounced off my ears as I brushed it back and buried my face in my hand.  He sat on the edge of the bed and said “good morning”.
I looked at him and said “Did the world start back yet?”
We laughed.
The sun beaming in thru the cracks of his bedroom blinds dared us to test our abilities all over again.  We didn’t.  I sipped my juice and watched as he sat on the edge of the bed and turned on the TV.  ESPN. I rolled my eyes and heard the birds chirping.  Earth was gearing up again.  I could hear her motors warming up.  I scooted to the side of the bed with my back to him and began looking for my clothes.  Neither of us had consumed any alcohol the night before yet my BAC. felt over the legal limit.  I was dizzy.  I grabbed my forehead and saw a pile of folded clothes on his dresser.  Ahhh the ole naked walk of shame.  Nice. 
I stood, sucked in my belly and walked to the dresser.  Before I knew it, I felt like I was spinning.  But I was.  He had picked me up and turned me around on some old Clark Gable movie shit.  He laid me on the bed and kissed all over my neck while I covered my morning dew breath with my hands.  He stopped and looked at me. 
No words were exchanged.
The blinds blew back and forth slightly from the open window breeze.  The dizziness was subsiding. Probably because I was laying down now.  He stared continuously and slowly began touching my face.  I tried to keep the tears out of my eyes that I wasn’t sure of their purpose right now anyway but I could feel them.  There was something in his eyes that I connected to.  He moved his lips close to mine and teased me with pretend kisses.  Before we had a tongue fight he said to me “I want to dress you”.
We laughed.  It was silly.  All that staring and this fool says some old Billy Dee Williams movie shit.  LOL! My dizziness continued to fade away as I sat up. Earth had found her mojo. We both wanted to lay there. We both wanted to talk and laugh until our voices turned magic and we could poof and be back in space. But our schedules didn’t give us that much time. Not right now. But our desire strengthened.  Our connection continued to grow. Our sex was magical and our emotions were wide open.  We saw that….it was why we locked eyes so perfectly.
As he dressed me in my sweats and t-shirt, the sound of the outside began to become more crispy.  I didn’t hear them until he tapped me on my side and said all done.  We had stopped the world….again….it was like a mini stop.  He walked me to my car and we kissed away our  goodbyes.  We had a weekend trip coming up out of town together.  It wouldn’t be long before we saw each other again.  And we talked every day. Every night.  We didn’t let our schedules dictate our connection. 
Everyone wants a connection with someone. Eff what you heard.
And for that one night, we stopped it all.  We placed everything on hiatus and explored a public hibernation.  Nothing existed outside of our skin and voices.  We didn’t just create one beautiful chapter in our book, we learned how to make all the other words disappear.
We stopped the world.  Maxwell would be so proud.

*just some randomness from listening to Maxwell…not a true story tho*


Route 409

Four Hundred and Nine ways of thinking
about you
and stuff.....
all fluff and kisses over here....

Four hundred and nine dreams of filthy enjoyment followed up with a rain-dance of laughter...careful outsiders, these objects might be closer than they appear....

409 blinks that included you there
four hundred and nine sucks of night air while wondering if your hands were sweaty for a feel against my back

Times we count sheep in each others eyes
dosing off to sweet lips, falling closer than further apart
409 surprises
Because you are surprising
A surprise to me
Four steps from tipping me over
zero time for cold shoulders
nine minutes before we become one supernova
and i
Turn the corner
See the face
of you
and think to myself
409 ways of making your smile be true
and how
409 days ago, i was still a long while away from you
You didn't exist in this realm of my life
but now
we are something like highway 409.
Traveling at moderate speed
two beings scared to bleed or cause it
but both containing zero desire to pause -
for it is right now time
on a scale of one to ten, we are plus one, after nine

four hundred and nine times

times two

Ppl wondering to themselves 'what the hell is going on over there'
409 eye wrestles with each other
and i say f*ck it,
 lets feel it
 and let em' all stare...