stop it...

hood

she was from the hood.

but she wasn't hood like her neighbor.

what is being "hood"? she thought..

is it being ghetto?

addressing my sistas as "b*tches" and "hoes"

is it being a b*tch or a hoe?

is it being both?

is it standing on the corner..waiting for the next move to make on a summer day while the sun settles in my black skin because i have no goals or plans?

is being hood, being nothing?

is it being a baby mama gettin' beat around by my baby daddy who is deat beat to the seeds he planted in me that grew so beautifully?

is it ramen noodles with the hot sauce?

kool aid with two different flavors?

is it reppin' two different colors?

is it getting high everyday?

is it smoking or drinking your life away?

is it running in people's house, stealing what they work for just to say you had to make a way out of no way?...

sweet then sour

my emotions leak out of my pores

as i pour my aged tears in my wine glass

here baby,

have a sip of my saltiness and tell me..

how does that taste?

as bitter as the woman i have become

i was once sweet and succulent as i leap lightly while swaying my sundress as my skin scintillates in the sun.

anyone who sat and was bitterly brewed, i'd swing by and add some sweetness in the mix.

with me, your day has turned into sweet tea.

but i traded my sugar for lemon juice that

i pour on my opens wounds

caused by you

since i no longer feel

because my sun has been hidden

so i no longer glow

my sundress no longer sways

i no longer leap

i stagger and

sit stiff

with my legs sown shut

remaining stagnant

i no longer flow

so please,

dont touch me

un...

I Am Tootie.

he said tootie love me for me.

he wakes up at the crack of dawn, sitting on the edge of a cliff he's not  sure when he climbed up on

waiting for that moment to fall and just say f*ck it all.

he buttons up the shirt stitched with his name, ready to start the day that he's praying will end already.

talking to Sleaze while on the clock.

thank god he's not being docked for the time spent on the phone with his homie who's about to do some time.

he just cant seem to get in the zone while this one eyed clown is telling him how to move around.

don't disappoint mawmaw, she's telling him to stand tall but he's ready to fall and just say f*ck it all.

 but he has to be the man for his son that his father wasn't for him

his baby mama in his ear screaming " you don't love me" but he's just ready for her to shut the f*ck up so he can speak his pie...

little one

she was the little one always running in the dirt, sculpting her future in what nature gives her. she runs wild while her curls bounce. she yells and sings freely while looking up at the bright blue sky. she hops and skips while on the rise like the sun because she is simply sunshine. her smile was original. her laugh was inevitable. she was beautiful. but once she got around society who set the trend that everyone somehow follows, she became ugly. she looked in the mirror wondering "what's wrong with me? my mama saids i'm beautiful. is it because she's my mama?" she doesn't know. so she begs her mama for money so she can get new clothes and look like the next hoe who society praises. instead of loving herself, the little one loves the trend. she start to hanging with "cool" gang, altering her mind by getting high, frying any brain cells she had to left to think for herself. but instead, she thinks about what the next clown wants her to say. th...

stop it...

the lies, i can't take it.

it's almost as if you love hearing yourself talk, no matter what it is and at this point, i can't take it. you constantly try to feed me bullsh*t you wouldn't eat ya self...why me?

why not feed it to someone who craves it?

because me? i can't take it.

you hurt me and while i'm running away, you try to bandage me up just to reopen my wounds and hurt me some more..sick is what you are.

but if the shoe was on the other foot, could you take it?

because me? i can't.

and i won't.

and i don't do what you do.

how could you hurt the only one that's there for you?

because once i'm gone, who will you run to?

because me? i can't do this with you. not anymore.

so just stop it while you can because i guarantee you'll be in the position to never hurt anyone again. only because you'll be too hurt...

witness

the crime has been committed against my vulnerability.

my heart lays broken in pieces on golden soil

there it is, the blood of a rare breed leaks

who did this to me?

was it you or was it me?

the only witness to this vicious act are my emotions, yet the only mouth they can speak through is mine..

so do i speak up?

or do i stay quiet?

i guess im amongst the suspects so while my beating heart now lays stiff, ill plead the fifth

while i look out this glass to see this suspect unmask itself, i think to myself, am i simply looking in the mirror?

waiting to be real with myself?

i need a witness..

i need help.

i need god himself to reveal who is to be held responsible for this madness committed against what was once my heart which is now just a crime scene.

was it him..?

or was it me.....?

blame game

the strength of manipulation weighs me down.

in the back of my pretty little mind, i know but once im front and center in this situation, i neglect what i should acknowledge.

i sit and try to figure out what exactly am i doing wrong.

what can i do to make it right

it starts with me but it ends with him.

my free speaking mind drove him to devalue my being.

all i wanted was for him to love me.

all i wanted was to be protected.

to be respected.

but that's just to much to ask for.

i refuse to let him self destruct.

but somehow..i end up destructed.

i end up messed up while he's out having fun.

i end up crying while he's out laughing.

his laugh is blissful.

his smile is endless.

my pain run deeps.

i roll on a river full of tears i cried yesterday and try to find my way through this torture.

do i blame him?

or do i blame mys...

detriMENTAL

baby girl if you knew better you'd do better

trying to convince myself that my better is for the better 

I continue to tell myself 

Zhonny, you know better but why is your better problematic like mathematics you can't seem to strategize when you don't realize what lies before your eyes..

and better always seems to stand out

whether it's visual or physical

but as far as your mental?

damn baby girl, I don't know.

seems to me that the downfall of it better catches your attention rather than a better situation.

so...deep down, baby girl who are you really rooting for?

because if it's these n**gas, then that's the wrong thing you're standing for

if it aint yourself, I feel sorry for you

but...when I change the point of view "you" turns into "I" so...I actually feel sorry for myself.

deleterious to my health

negati...

pretender

i stand in front of the mirror and reflect upon my reflection.

reflect the self inflicted wounds

dissect the my self esteem to categorize under "High" and "Low"

i swing the lowest on my sweetest charriot

yet still i cant come home

to the real.

i rather live this fantasy

i rather pretend

i position the muscles underneath my glistening melanated skin as it scintillates in the sun

reversing the truth with my reverie

i trade reality for illusion

my darkness is merely sunshine

my rain are diamonds

then the roles i assigned myself to play begin to switch on me

fantasy switched to reality

my sunshine is now shaded

my diamonds turn into dust

i pretended to love.

i pretended to smile.

yet you didn't see anything because your perception was reality.

so when i was in need of a helping hand, you simply saw so...

september 21, 2015 12:39pm..waiting on Uber

I used to be one of them b*tches that I shake my head at.

Acceptance was my priority, but since my priorities where problematic, never diplomatic, kissing a*s was what I was good at.

But when it came time for some assistance, I didn't know where my friends were at.

Dependency was my primary residence and the essence of this mental aspect is that I am never alone.

But as of now, I am wrong.

And the downfall of it all is that your enemies in disguise are always down to see you fall because when you're standing taller than the fallen soldier, that superiority becomes your priority.

Just like being accepted was my pot of luck.

And since I'm a double minority, my priorities looked even more f*cked up then what they really was.

Looking like I'm standing on all fours.

Only a b*tch when I bark and a b*tch barked when she needed to be fed and lead on to release until she acts up and gets put to sleep.<...