Notes By: A Broken Heart...

Booty calls, booty calls, booty calls. Well, I could start an entire blog on that topic alone. The vast majority of us have had booty calls and have dealt with the drama one a booty call brings. To me booty calls differ from person to person, gender, age, sexual maturity as well as culture. Some people might not have had a booty call but they were booty calls. Regardless, we all know what a booty call and a one night stand is. And thus, I give you.. Booty Call He was supposed to be nothing just a quickie; not a friend. He was supposed to be nothing but a one night stand. He was supposed to be nothing, nothing at all. He was supposed to be nothing but a booty call. But I underestimated him and the powers that be. He opened my eyes and stole a smile from me. "You are beautiful," he said he had to confess. He told me I was sexy, he said, "The fucking best." He told me things no one else would, and slowly I felt he was too good. ...

This was a very controversial poem for me and some people reading it. This poem is entitled Sleeping with the Enemy and it's not what it seems at first glance. Sleeping with the Enemy We live in the same space, we sleep in the same bed; stuck in the same place, must I repeat what I said? His eyes are brown and his head is bald, he's an angel sent down, he's muscular and tall. Some would call me the devil for tempting such a being, some would call me evil for doing what I'm doing. I left a woman at home, she was sexy and cute. I left her all alone though she loves my dirty boots. She told me she'd always be there and I told her so would I She said she'd always care, now alone I cry. I tried to resist temptation and I tried to keep myself from sin. I'd hate to keep her waiting seeing the situation I'm in. I'm sleeping with evil, I'm sleeping with the enemy. I'm sleeping with the devil, I'm sleeping with me... ...

Today while I was writing I started to think about regrets. I was thinking about the things that I've done and the lack of things that I've done with my life. I do regret a lot of things and though they might have shaped who I am today, I'd love to have gone without them and the lessons they taught. I started to write about my many regrets but since the list would be endless so would this poem. I began thinking about what I felt was the ultimate regret, love. Love, would be my next big regret. I felt the regret of loving or marrying someone, the wrong one was my next big regret. So, I wrote this poem, but I felt it would be better coming from a woman. It would be better coming from the fragile heart. I felt regrets from a doubting heart, a woman that was in love but doubted her future husband was. And that's how I came up with... Regrets... The veil covers my eyes; the ring is on my hand. The stars are in the sky, as we become wife and man. I speak in a s...

Today I was watching the Bad Girls Club and one of them said something about bullying that made me think. I am small so of course I've encountered many a bully but I don't think I have ever been bullied. I started to think about smoking and weed and the people I were around and what they did. I never went with the flow or with the crowd and I've only done what I've wanted when I've wanted. Such as weed, I didn't try it until I was 21. I guess I'm a late, LOL. But, I decided to write a poem hoping I could relate to those who had been bullied, who had been peer pressured. And I threw drugs in there because I've heard about weed being a gateway drug and the cycle the drugs seem to perpetuate. This is what came out... Peer Pressure "Go ahead and try it," he says. But my mind says No, instead. "Take it it's good for you." I know in my head that's not true. But how can I say, "No"? It's just a little ...

I've heard someone once say, "death is but a dream." So, I thought, what if death was a dream that you were trapped in? What if death was a perpetual coma that you never wake up from, but you know what's going on around you? What if we made our own heaven and hell? What if our heaven and hell was but a dream?  With those questions in mind, I pondered what my hell would be. I knew it wouldn't be as simple as being happy or not. I knew my heaven would be my hell. I knew that somehow I'd be self-aware. I'd know what was going on and why but be powerless to do anything about it. I knew that my hell, my dream would be embedded within a dream. And so I wrote these two poems that are one. Dream She places a kiss on my cheek. We are in bliss we do not speak. We hold each other in the sand. Starstruck lovers, wife and man. She can't stay here with me,  the sun fades and so does she. It's like holding tiny grains of sand, she's slowl...

#HerChoice Her Choice Is it right? Is it wrong? Who knew five minutes of pleasure would last so long? There were all sorts of reasons and costs she couldn't afford, so you see she had to abort. But no matter what; it's looked upon with hate. Even for the little girl who's been raped. Is it right for her to nurture the seed of her rapist? And is it wrong for her to be hope and faithless? Is it right for her to not give life a chance? But is it wrong for her to as it's said take a "murderous stance." Is it right? Is it wrong? Who knew five minutes of pain would last so long? Don't hate her, listen to her voice, because it all boils down to Her Choice.

A writer's mind... Almost I think, this is hard, as I, stealth like slip pass the guard. I head towards the door; I don't wanna be here anymore. The door does not creek as I slip through without a peep. I run down a long hall then smack into a wall. I turn and run the other way, I cannot stay another day. I'm so worried I have to hurry. I'm the only one he trusted if he sees me I'm busted. I hear someone coming and my heart starts pounding. I mean how can I possibly turn back now.  If someone see's me the alarms will be sounded, I see a window and decided to go out it. I land on the sweet warm grass, but I have to be fast. No time to dwell, I have to get out this hell. I'm very tired as I hurry over the barbed wire. I jump down landing in the dirt, sure my knees hurt. But hey, I keep running anyway. As far and as fast as I can through this foreign land.  But somehow I'm surrounded just like that and everything goes black. That's it, I...