Past, present and future is who you are, lover.
Meeting you was like a breath of fresh air and standing next to a ticking time bomb
All at the same time.
When it's good it's great! And when it ain't...
Well, let's just say he's always ready to vacate.
"Just call if you'll be late..." I've said.
And I've reasoned and thought and written and prayed a million times seeking answers to why...why am I the woman who needs so much?
Why do I long for his touch? Often.
Why do I need to be needed?
Why do I constantly need affirmation, confirmation, and resolve?
Because when there's a problem to solve, I have to solve it...
"Doing the same thing expecting different results is the definition of insanity," they say.
I pray, then...why when I want to talk things out to get to the bottom so that we can get to the top without stumbling over the same stupid barrier is it an issue?
To love me is to know me, is to want me, is to teach me, is to need me is to...actually tell me you love me...sometimes.
To love me is to eat my dinner and my _________, to seek to understand me, to love the good, the bad, the ugly and to see the unbearable and still choose to love me.
Love is believing the best about you even when I'm seeing the worst of you.
But you wouldn't understand that...
That would be too much like you actually giving real thought to something or someone other than yourself.
Today I'm sad, but I don't wish I never loved you.
In fact, I'm happy to announce that (drumroll please)...
I'm human and I'm a woman - actually the best woman that most men have ever seen, experienced or encountered - so bright that I blind men but also deceive them...
They like what they see - they like my body...and then..they see me - and realize that it's going to take more than all your richness or poor-dom to satisfy my boredom and my need to be heard, respected, loved, desired, touched, oh and did I say loved?
To love me is to feel the burn of my wildfire, see my flames, hear my cries, see my scars...and get in the wildfire with me...put it out.
Guess I was too hot.
Kendall is a vice principal and a performing artist (contemporary/jazz/R&B violinist, vocalist, and songwriter).
My late night ritual consists of 4 cookies, a cold glass of almond milk, and going through my fiance’s phone...
I laid there staring at the ceiling...
Blue-green plush carpet sliding through my hands. Chirps coming from crickets we hid in grandma's closet...
I had this glorious idea of how I could tell my story, but then I received a phone call from a distant ex tonight...
I don’t forgive him. Not yet.
Bodies moving in sync
You can't come in here...
There was no glory in side-chicking or deception, only pain and illusion.
I love him for making me feel loved.
6 years, 2 kids, countless jail/prison stays, and the abuse...
In the loneliest hour my thoughts seem to always go back to you.
It's time for "the talk."