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Sweet Dreams & Rude Awakenings

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“You’re The BEST woman a man could ASK for”!!!

Do you really mean it?
She implores, what for?
What motivates your means?
What instigates your dreams?

What is she to foresee?
Years of abuse and deceit lay at her feet
Conditioned to be kept for keeps
For years she wept in her sleep

I bite my tongue; but she knows your young
A family you should had begun
Instead of pursuing this particular one
She’s been long done

Moods erratic and & sometimes sporadic
Just stuff her up in the attic; stigmatic
Yet, you don’t chase her off & her havoc
You’ve embraced her more than haven’t

So lost and confused
Just don’t know what to do
She feels the love coming from you
It is what she’d grown so cold-hearten to;
until you!

Will she continue to believe you to be true
Not hiding some evil things that you do
Praising her as she’s your only boo
So many years had she been lied to;
Before you

What’s a woman to do…
[I believe you]

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The Package

He’s handsome & debonair
His physic not many to compare
You can’t help but continuously stare

Worthy of a lover’s passions untamed
Deserving of compassion all the same
An understanding of this life living game

You are the sparkle to his eyes
Stop trying to eternally scrutinize
Just know, he makes you feel so alive

He is a blessing; not by surprise
He is devoted and loyal as wise
His smile to keep as your prize

Love has arrived……

Raw(r)

therapy chair.jpg

 

 

He quietly sits in his chair
Eyeing her,
Fondling her long golden hair
Pondering,
Why her smile so rare?

Her bruises & scars, one can not see
Mental Illness; some say the disease
Tormenting her soul to still bleed

He catches her flinch & shy away
Not wanting the past to be replayed
Wondering,
Now,
Who’s on
Display?

She keeps the truth; ever since youth
Misguided, lieded, and hidden from truths
Things that were done, so fucking uncouth

With a careful ear & a watchful eye
He’s witnessed more than just her cries
He’s fallen in love
w/someone so dead;
Yet, alive

[She survived!!]

 

 

Did You?

All eyes were on the errs you’d do
Never a dull moment; not for you!
Always had to be the one on cue

You’re an innate being to strive to survive
Once, on the streets; hidden, but alive
Never knowing love, for it had been deprived

You’re a lot of misguided insight
You had to be on guard, even late @ night
Taught by a teacher of whom instilled fright

You’re the misery; you’re the fight, too
Who knows why they had done that to you
Never knew what you’d have to push through
Did you?

Heard

For some, childhood is golden
For others it is ripped away & stolen
And, yet, should be a time of love & molding

I, too, was silenced and hushed
Told not to tell a single soul anything of such
They would call me a liar if said touched

I was never alone; I felt you, too
Tears would fall onto my empty years
I knew others were out there in the same fear

You are here reading this w/me now
I am also a survivor; standing amongst the crowd
I will not settle till my little voice is found

Neither should you!

Cup of Sugar

She loved like no tomorrow
Living in so much pain, riddled with sorrow
She didn’t need anymore;
Yet, she had some you could borrow

Say Your Grace

Anything (repressed) of excess is to obsess,
Corroding your soul; abscessed
Purge what it is you have to confess!
You will never be able to rest

Say “Our Father’s Prayer” is his only request?
Will their sins be abolished or just repressed?
Will all their sins be awashed off of their bests?

No matter what was the crime
Determined to make you mind
Recalling, time of being chocked blind

You never got use to the anger shed
Blows bestowed to your little head
Building so much unwanted dread

How could you ever rest in bed
Knowing more was ahead
Crying is what you did instead

You were too little with no one to help defend
Too many years they’ve stolen, since then
Forever, left reliving past events again

You just want the bad memories to end…..

 

I Thought I Was Evil…..

I’m sure some of us had lost count on the wooden spoons broken or the hair brushes (those nice round ones) or the belts that would sometimes ensue when more pain was wanting to be inflicted upon you. A time or two (a zillion for a few) of when your parents tempers rose flared & then they came unglued.  What was it they would do? Can you remember too? What is it WE are now to do?

6 yrs old, she was. Her father was clueless; it was her birthday and she just rounded the corner & he snaps a picture of his beautiful birthday girl; so he thought. That picture circulates my house [like many others] to this day. Just as hauntingly, little had he known he had actually captured the expression of a child that was just harshly scolded, spanked behind closed doors & shook as her elastic birthday hat string was snapped harshly to her neck & told to “act right”! Do you know what it’s like to celebrate a birthday, as a 6 yr old, trying to fight back the tears and bewilderment of why it was you were so wrong; all the while, trying to show happiness for the gifts you where shoved towards. *poof*[my first recall of disappearing] I apologize for not recalling what it was I had done that instigated the abuse. I was constantly lying, as I was told and caused a lot of disharmony; I have surmised.

I realized religion and the infamous “G”od was a farce at, about, 7 yrs old. We lived in Maui, Lahaina. I had a serious problem w/wetting the bed for a lot of years & I recall that night waking up to yet, another, wet bed. [I had only one set of sheets because I had hid sheets in the past when I would wet the bed. Because I didn’t want the harsh scoldings & jerking me around when I would speak of my accident. So, smart me, I decide to get up and change the sheets but only ones where my parents sheets. I also had to deal w/the mattress being wet. I couldn’t put clean sheets on a wet mattress. I took out the hairdryer & at about 3am I was blow drying my mattress. I don’t know how long I had tried but it gave off a horrible burnt smell. I dried it enough to put the sheets on & climbed back into bed.

The next morning, my step mother rips me outta bed for she smelt the burnt foul smell in my room & sees that there is a cig burn mark on “my/her” sheets. [They were smokers] I tried explaining to her that they were her sheets & she did not believe me. She ripped me across the entire house to the numerous bibles screaming at the top of her lungs for me to stop lying & admit I smoked cigs. After about an hour of torture it stopped, I had stopped begging for mercy and succumbed & lied w/my hand on the bible.& her next line of punishment was eating 5 cigarettes. Chew swallow, chew swallow, chew swallow–hurl–chew swallow 2 more. She decided the caper to my insolence and lying about smoking was going to take me down to the beach (as I was violently ill) and make me sit in the hot sun & not go into the water at all or have anything to drink. I recall laying in the sun wishing for this evil “G”od to rot in hell.

I was the brunt of many jokes. One was around 8, (An adults birthday, I believe) I recall my shirt being lifted in front of everyone & she slaps a bow where my breast was & exclaimed, “Now you have some tits,” I was mortified, horrified, petrified, & *poof*[I disappeared once again] I realized I was a problematic child. I was an unwanted step daughter but told how much she wanted me to be the daughter she never had. Which I was never to make that mark. Another humorous one for my step mother when I was about 9, the humiliation I had doing my chores [vacuuming the living room] while wearing my panties on my head w/the soiled crotch in my face. Some humiliation never goes away; what was she thinking that was solving? Everyday after school I would have to go into the room &drop my pants. On the back of the door was a chart & I would get a gold star if I didn’t soil my panties & I do not recall what was done when they were. Probably best for me.

My stomach turns as my thoughts get darker the more I became aware. The waking me, late at night, out of a dead sleep with perfume wafted under my nose. I would squeeze my eyes tight wishing to not cough to show I was awake. I didn’t know how much more my spirit could break. *poof* [I disappear once again]

Those are just some soft examples of what my little mind was ripped through. I never did know, then nor now, why I was such an awful bad child. I don’t know what I ever did to deserve such treatment. I’m not sure what gives a person the belief or understanding that they can misuse and abuse another human being. What gives another human being the thoughts it’s okay to  shower it with vile evil wickedness and tell that young soul that there is a god but he obviously does not view you as worthy enough of a cause or the pain and suffering would cease to exist and I would be a loved little girl. You are proof evil exists! She would hiss time and time again.

UNfinished

THIS IS TRIPLE XXX WRITING 

PLEASE DO NOT CONTINUE IF YOU ARE OFFENDED BY MILD EROTICA!!!!!!

Cum bring her your manliness & undress
Tell her your secrets you want to profess
Bare her your soul; first to confess

Teach her a thing or two; many a blessing
Drench her in your masculinity you’ve been repressing
Whisk her away with your love to be expressing

Fantastically rich of haughtiness
Pure unadulterated naughtiness
Sauciness in your hardened arrant obviousness

Between her thighs she lets you slide
Pushing her panties aside
Tickling her further inside

Crystalline dew drenched drops
Glistening wetter w/every dirty thought
Appearing across her, now, bare crotch

Glazing just the fingertip
Withdrawing, she to bite her lower lip
Moans, to escape as you follow to rub her clit

Intense animialistic wit
She’s ready to submit
Logic, long ago, quit

I’m at a loss for words….
Go on…get w/it…..
You finish it…

[gosh, make me do all the work….lol]

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