If looks were everything, you would be my everything.
But they're not.
So there you have it.

And It's hard to decipher with you all in my cipher
Between love and lust where, once, lack of trust kept us still.
Stifled.
Where pieces of our struggle remain part of the puzzle
Where pain drenched hearts turn back in the dark to the start
when us being apart made me ill

...

nina

Impose (rough)

I don’t mean to impose but
I want to impose myself on you.
Your lips, your hands.
Permanently embed myself in your brain so that your every thought is me
Impose myself on your tongue and saturate your taste buds
With the essence of me
Tattoo myself to the back of your eyelids
So that when you close your eyes all you see is me
Crawl into your tear ducts
So that when you cry, you cry a river of me
Self impose myself onto your skin
so that when touch yourself, all you feel is me…


Yada yada yada…blah blah blah

nina

I had one of those dreams this morning.
The dream where you're dreaming about having sex...great sex...with someone and they're asleep right beside you.
Woke up thinking it was real. Wishing it were real.
A dream deferred.

Missing my homie.

Bitch????

Such archaic banter.
Do you kiss yo mama with that mouth?

An Ode to The Past...

9-19 1/2-2011

When I walked into that house that Friday night, I walked right into my past.
All of my stories and secrets, once buried alive, quickly permeated the air, suffocating me with every attempted breath.
I was horrified. What had I gotten myself into? Who knew what? And, how did they know?
Was my friendship with her, however estranged even worth the torture of revisiting and reliving a past I had long since concealed and pushed deep in the bowels of my belly? At that moment, I honestly didn’t think so.
I considered running. Thought about saying fuck it and turning my black ass right back around.
I wasn’t ready.
Guilt escaped my body, seeped through my pores, and clouded my vision. Nothing was clear to me anymore, except for the fact that I did not want to be there among the people I had wronged and who had wronged me so carelessly so long ago.
And no matter the excuses, or fabricated tales, I knew, at the surface, that I deserved those stares and whatever they had said about me that night, was probably true.
So, I bore those letters proudly. The color of blood. Scarlet red. The letter A followed by two SS’s proceeding the words KISS and MY.
After all even the preacher, and preacher’s kids, and the preacher’s kids’ kids have a few skeletons lying around in their closet.
　
nina

I looked at his picture today. Studied it intently. Let a single tear roll down my cheek then deleted it from my memory. 

Why get married? And if you do marry, why cheat?
The sanctity of marriage has long been washed away by thoughts of “acceptable” infidelity; thinking that its ok to have a chick/dick on the side so long as you’re taking care of business at home.
But what about the emotional? What about the vows? What about the bond you share with the person you chose to marry? Doesn’t that hold any weight when it comes to rationalizing your decision to cheat or not cheat?
If you love your wife, why would you even consider stepping out on her; adding another person to the mix? Fuck wanting to be a rebel and fighting the world with your dick. Fuck wanting to be a “free spirit” and do as you please with no reservations, stipulations, and/or consequence. You waived your right to
“sexual” free-spiritedness the moment you took those vows before God and/or man.

A Hint of Color (excerpt)

11022011
I grew up in the Black community, went to a predominantly black elementary school, a culturally diverse high school and college, even dated outside my race a couple of times. I know how to mix and co-mingle with the best and worst of them.
So why, then, am I having such a hard time here? My guards are up twentyfourseven. Skin set to super strength. I am constantly on high alert, anticipating the ever present nuances of over opinionated chatter. Listening extra close for coded racial slurs.
I can’t loosen up. Can’t get comfortable. Can’t be free in a world that muffles me, not because of who I am, but because of what I look like.
And I am not trying to fit in or become one of the “chosen few”, I’m just looking for a sense of normalcy in an otherwise chaotic environment.
I’m tired of being the only hint of color in a sea of pale faces; the only brown skinned lady in a racially charged atmosphere where masculinity and ignorance prevail. Where Black vs. White is at the very forefront of every side conversation, and racial innuendo consumes the air. Where the color of my skin, not the content of my character, is silently prevalent in my daily interaction with these people.
It saddens me.
The resounding fact that I AM BLACK will never change and that’s what I love. But the ignorance. The ignorance and prejudice, the stifled mindset, the superiority complex, the erroneous sense of entitlement, the continuity of blatant disrespect of my people in my presence is what boils my blood.
It bugs the hell out of me how we are placed in the same category as monkeys, not men. As animals, not humans. They place us in the throes of satan himself without even attempting to take the time to understand our wonderment.
This is the most uncultured, unrelatable, close minded group of people I have ever encountered, and that’s putting it mildly.
Their opinions of us are multitudinous. We are loud, ignorant, uneducated, drug dealers, gang bangers, baby daddies, baby toting, hairweave wearing, gum smacking baby mommas with no sense of direction.
In their eyes we are everything wrong in this world. We are the reason for the failed economy, global warming, rush hour traffic, migraines, and constipation. Unworthy of walking the land where they reside.

Fourteen years and I still love the way he says my name...even on a bad day.

No Struggle, No Strength...

His desperate pleas for attention have fallen on deaf ears and...blind eyes.
It embarrasses me.