I.

If I’m human, how does the world drift me around without my consent?
Who gives the permission to my peers to use me like tools as they neglect to cherish me? 
I always forgive but its a task to forget. It’s consistently the same thing. 
I watch friends and enticed flames grow roots around my ribcage and bait me into showing them how to open locked doors with no obvious space for a key. 
I let them inside, 
times after I promised no one else would tread within the temple or gaze upon my weaknesses. 
And I tend to put my hope in the wrong seeds and they never grow to be the kind of dream I want them to be. 
I need them to be flowers. 
I worry that I’ll always be the lover and never the loved. 
Cuz everyone’s heart is looking for a throne room 
but they always oblige my chest temporarily until some other pedestal is divinely delivered that seems to hold them better but is less of a challenge to get on. 
So one after another, 
I become the change that needs to be made to in order to achieve perfection and I am unapologetically discarded. 
And I pluck the dry weeds, that never sprouted floral buds, from the space beneath my collarbones. With one blade I buzz, 
“You love me” 
and whisper 
“You love me not” with the next. 
What excuse is there for all the failed gardens that tried to flourish in the fence of my bones? 
There’s rainy days, 
my eyes puffed up the size of heavy gray clouds. 
I keep the sun hidden in the creases of my smile just to share in moderation. 
But nothing grows with me. 
Only apart.

Brownsuga* Skin

Written at 5am...what's sleep anyways ?

Please don't forget that I'm your rib.

Cause I've been here for so long that

you tend to disregard me

and strike me from

your thoughts and memories.

But every time you breathe,

you feel me,

and with every step that follows,

I lure u in,

like a sin

to be committed and forgiven.

My lips drawn speechless,

harborin secrets

and barring unadorned kisses.

Skin whisperin of the Garden of Eden,

holdin scents of fruits and flower petals.

And this is how you find me,

clothed by nothing but the Sun.

I'm without shame

and you can see my every scar

and mark tickled into my body's frame,

you beg to know my body's name.

The wind screams 'Beauty'

and without question,

you agree.

Laid out in front of you

is me.

A once blank canvas painted with

the colors of beach sunsets and spring rains.

Autumn hikes across my veins,

and my smile embodies full moons.

Cheeks rosy with aroused heat and anticipation

as your fingertips draw near me.

Amazement crawls its way between us,

draggin lust on its backside.

You lick love into my insides,

sweet honey bee nectar hidden deep within my thighs.

You're buzzin 'round,

tracin my every curve with wide eyes of disbelief,

tongue draggin with hopes of mischief.

This is brownsuga* skin...

breasts perked high at attention,

back arched just slight so the view is just right.

Womanhood drippin like a question mark,

soaked with my own curiosities.

Body parts swellin with pleasure,

every nerve on edge,

temptations crawling over my goosebumbs.

This is ecstasy.

Satisfaction buried deep within my pigment.

Strength tangled in my complexion.

There's no soul like the one trapped in brownsuga* skin.

Baby, my name is Black** Woman. 

*To be replaced with an adjective that describes your complexion. Our shades are so full of flavor and sensuality but when I wrote it, I felt like I had wrote it for anybody. All shades are beautiful and are open to acceptance.

**When I originally wrote it, I had just wrote Woman. But I'm Black...lol. Basically the word itself is interchangeable with any other ethnicity or can just be left out and said as Woman. Again, I wrote it for anybody and all women are beautiful in their own way just by the mere fact that we're women. Please don't forget that you are his rib. We're the strength of the world and whatnot, works of art. =)

Storms.

Thunder shook me from my sleep.
And I reached out for you
only to wrap my hand around
emptiness and disappointment.
I squeezed my pillow
and thought of you and our storms.
And now this trip down memory lane
got me uneasily walking through our late nights.
This rain outside would be perfect for some lovemaking;
moans escaping in between the raindrops.
I squirm at the thought of times when we've been one;
finding your way into the heavens between my thighs.
I've made the storm jealous;
becoming drenched with all this reminiscing.
It'd be better if you were here to feel this storm with me;
the storm in me.
The heavens throb for your touch;
and I squeeze tighter tryna keep the flood waters in.
Outside my window;
thunder beckons again
and I can almost feel you pounding in me
as if you're tryna outdo Mother Nature.
Lightning flashes
and I look up into the night sky to see your face.
I bite my lip with frustration.
I want your lips against mines;
drowning amongst the clouds.
You dive into me.
Then quiet my pleas
with long overdue kisses
and I taste my angels that have found home near my knees.
The heavens can't keep the moisture from flowing out the gates.
Oh; it's amazing how
your body quakes into mines;
sending shakes up my spine.
I dig my nails into your skin;
clawing at your flesh;
tearing apart your sins.
Downpour outside picks up speed;
and you change pace to keep up;
personal storms trickling down my thighs.
Deep breaths.
Sweet moans.
Long sighs.
I toss and turn under the weight of your memory
and cuddle with the Iloveyou's of our past.
Storm still frantic in my heavens;
hell erupts outside my window
and the room smells of satisfaction
and reeks of your absence.

Whoooo. I turned myself on when I wrote this lmao. I mean I was already a little turned on anyways...lls tis how I thought of it.

A Very Long Story Short.

It's hard havin my heart spread out over such a large, vast space. It's like, okay...heart broken. No secret there. But it still finds a way to beat and do all the things it did before. I mean, shit, it's a lil stronger than it was. Loves a lil more than before. Even through fear. I'll keep my distance when I'm feelin down, bite my lip when I wanna tell you how I feel, and hug. I'll hug anyone cause the great thing about givin a hug is you're simultaneously gettin one in return.

Well anyways; back to all the lil broken pieces of my heart being spread everywhere. I'm texting what I guess you can label my best friend; I've gotten so used to her presence and her just being there for me over these past few months. And now; Maryland seems so empty without her.

So, a piece of my heart is in New York. And London. North Carolina. And several parts of Maryland.

I'm a lover. It's so beyond annoying cause I'll be walkin around expectin people to love me how I love them. Like; who does that ?? So here's a snippet from a convo I had last night when I was just hittin tipsy:

My expectations are now very low. Standards still high; but expectations low. I don't wanna expect anything and then be disappointed when I don't get it. Not again. I don't wanna go there again. 

So; yea...there's a wall up; emotionally but it doesn't mean that everyone doesn't have equal chance to prove to me that my expectations should be as high as my standards. But the truth is: I'm just scared. Scared for myself. And of course scared for anyone who thinks anything of me. I don't wanna unconsciously be responsible for pieces of hearts everywhere.

Oh; These Lives We Lead.

I know way too many people here right now
That I didn’t know last year, who the fuck are y’all?
I swear it feels like the last few nights
We been everywhere and back
But I just can’t remember it all.


It's been one helluva year. And that's the fuckin understatement of the century. I'm gonna pack up the last of my room today with a Dear Summer-Lights Please-Find Your Love playlist and all the songs that have become equated to my life in the past few months. I wonder if I need to watch what I say...fuck it.
So...here's what's left up my sleeve:

• Proof that laughter DOES heal you.

Even if it's temporarily and only for the moment. And you gotta learn to laugh at yourself and all your shortcomings, downfalls and heartbreaks. Cause if you don't; the build up of all the stress and drama and bad days will pile up and crush what's left of you and you'll wake up one morning to a strange version of what used to be yourself wondering how you fell so far from grace.

• It'll change you if you let it.

IT being a lifestyle, a friendship, a love interest...anything and everything can and will change you; whether its for the better or for the worst. I've seen so many people change; including myself. It hurt my soul when some people changed for the worst...and it gave me hope when I watched them grow...

• Alcohol is the problem and solution of all of life's problems.
• People spend too much time building walls instead of bridges...

Or they spend their time building bridges to get them to the wrong people and walls to keep out whose so right...but who am I to say who's right or wrong for anyone else. I don't even know who belongs with me...wants and needs are so different and if you focus on one more than they other; trust the other becomes so trivial. But I've build my walls through all the tears and pain that I've been caused and have caused...I'm nobody's victim but I'd like someone to know how I feel. I mean honestly; who wouldn't ?

• I've watched people's fears unfold right before their eyes...

Realizin that the person you love is...to say the least...crazy; moreso because they're chasing after ugh blah blah blah...how do you deal when you think their amazing ? Like they could shit sunshine and piss excellence...idk how you're supposed to handle it but you let go...and hope that all the things you love the most in life find their way back to you or at least just find their way. There's nothing like watching a lost soul.


And I know a lot about lost souls. In this last week; my roommate tried to kill herself lost all hope and attempted to put permanent ends to her pains. I've seen way too many tears from people I love...including myself. And now I've got these "Roman Numerals" that are like tally marks of my pain and the times when I've lost hope. And now I have to wonder where I'm goin next...I know where I wanna be but if this life has taught me anything: you don't always get what you want...rarely.


Confessions ?
I've got a ton...but it's best that I keep such amazing and heartbreaking realizations to myself. Cuz no one, especially myself; is really ready for the thoughts that surface when I look at you people...yeah; you people.


I don’t know how our lives got so crazy or where we’re headed next or how the hell we’ll survive; but I hope we all find the love we need, the peace we want & the happiness we deserve.


I love you, love.
"Sometimes I lie awake at night, and I ask, “Where have I gone wrong?” Then a voice says to me, “This is going to take more than one night."

Talks With Him.

He's a blessing and a curse. Like he's the best and the worst. Given me sweet hurts...blah blah blah. And then he laughs; and I know he's alright; livin life. I ask him if he's happy and he gives me this silly little rant about how happiness varies and we cant...we just cant expect everyday to be smiles. I ask him "Why not ? Why are we settling for content with constant arguments ?" We both know life is better than this. He tells me "Life is about winning." See he thinks it's all a game and everybody's got their pieces lined up whether they know it or not. But he knows...he thinks he knows everything. And he feels he's got the upper hand like it was filled with mostly spades. I know he's tired of charades and lies and parades of "love". But baby; if this is your idea of love; I don't wanna be around for your hate that could probably break the gates of hell itself. See I've been up against him before. Gotten papercuts from playing cards and wet sheets from tears and late night freaks. But now I watch run through this maze; hurt and changed -- hopin to find her waitin for you at the end. I got my fingers crossed for you that she will learn to bend...for you; maybe even give into you; maybe even mean it when she says she's in love with you. But you smile and tell me to trust you...always tellin me to trust you. I'm amazed that I can even still believe anything you say after all WE'VE been through but its like now; I finally understand you...

Blah Blah Blah...

Dear You;


Thanks for making it this far on accident. You're amazing. But don't tell anyone I said that. Good things are coming for you. Remember to pay attention so you don't miss them. You're the one person I've met that has taught me so many good and bad things about living. You bring out the heaven and the hell in me. And I've had one hell of a ride with you; but I wouldn't change it for anything. I hate you ALOTTT; lol but you're smarter than people give you credit for. You'll find you're way; you're figure out what the fuck you're supposed to do in life. Now...go win or something.


From Me.

Pretty Girls.

Girls, I ask em do they smoke?
Ask em what do they know?
Ask em can we go? Pretty girls..
Sunshine in the air, perfume everywhere
Girls are everywhere

The pretty girls be the ones with the darkest secrets...

Flawless;

the sweetest smiles are the ones hidin the most pain.

Puttin on happy-go lucky charades

but hidin teary eyes behind black tinted shades.

Mascara runnin deep into her veins.

She's not as happy as she claims.

Loneliness swallows her in rooms full of her closest friends.

Their hugs are empty.

And her trust in them waivers constantly.

The distance between them grows with each passing day.

Whatever; 

she don't want them anyways...

Too busy in her emotional built up brick walls

where no light shines in.

There's no windows; 

no doors.

Only mirrors covering every inch of the ceilings, walls and floors.

Admire your style and your physique

So all day;

she picks apart and critiques

what others call her "beauty".

Not seeing how they could see anything pretty in

an empty shell of what used to be herself.

She wages war on what's left...

She tears herself apart; 

skin first. 

As if she's tryna claw her way out of herself;

reassurin she can still feel herself.

Rips and cuts away at everything she doesn't like about 

the "pretty girl" screaming in the mirror.

And then she goes numb.

Protection from the "love".

She drowns herself in shot after shot

of anything that can be poured.

As the room fills with smoke

from blunt after blunt;

cloudin up want after want.

And when the smoke clears;

her fears

are still cluttered on mirrored floor

staring back at her;

tauntin her.

Always hidin right beneath her clothes.

She gazes into intact mirrors

but sees a broken reflection.

Sunrise.

She pulls together all the shattered pieces of herself.

Puzzles up a "pretty girl".

Hides the monsters under the bed.

Pushes the skeletons back in the closet.

And smiles.

Before she steps outside her solitude

flauntin that pretty girl attitude.

Girls, I ask em do they smoke?
Ask em what do they know?
Ask em can we go? Pretty girls..
Sunshine in the air, perfume everywhere
Girls are everywhere

Something I Needed to Read.

I'm further in than ever before; smh...

In honor of National Eating Disorders Awareness week, we wanted to share a beautiful story written by a former TWLOHA intern, Stephanie Koszalka. Please read it and enjoy remembering that your life and your story are powerful. No self-determined imperfection can change that.

---

Dear Body,

I’ve always let some imperfection or another stand in the way of me seeing what you truly are, that you are beautiful. You are a divine creation housing the most valuable thing known to the universe, my soul. I’m beginning to realize that a person’s soul has the capacity to radiate light that transcends all the characteristics that I have been conditioned to believe are flaws.

You naturally tell a story. Your blue-green veins are like a map to where your heart has been and where it is going. The curve of your waist and the shape of your cheekbones tell a tale of heritage and ethnicity. There are crayon markings on the wall somewhere that has measured your height throughout the years. Always returning to the same spot to see how you’ve changed.

Your eyes bare resemblance to nature. They are a deep forest green with golden yellow sunflower flecks. Your faded birthmark, once beet red, brought me shame because all I wanted was to conform. It now reminds me of how unique you are and all I want is to be different.

Your body begins as a story but continues with new chapters throughout your life. Some are chapters of sadness and pain, others of joy, and all of growth. Each chapter a blank canvas meant to be painted by our experiences. Photos are memories but so are our bodies in a way that’s more real, no posing and no fakeness.

I’m realizing these things now, but I’m so sorry that I didn’t realize them before. I’ve done everything I could to destroy the canvas and deface and burn the pages of different chapters.

I’ve waged war on you before; used razor blades to feel and drugs to numb. I’ve used caffeine to stay awake and alcohol to sleep. Abusing the side effects of my prescription drugs like loss of appetite, to deliberately starve myself into making you skinnier.  I’ve spent far too much time on a scale that merely weighs your effect on gravity, not the depth of your beauty. I wanted you to look like one of those girls in the magazines.

But in the ruins there is still a canvas. There is still beauty in your brokenness. The faded scars show healing reminding me that even though I’ve been in dark places, I’ve survived and learned and become stronger.

Although the war is over, the world still takes its toll. You have calluses on your hands from me writing too much and concentrating too hard. Yet the words are beautiful and the studying is worth it. You have the ache when it rains from broken bones, and stretch marks from growing too fast. You have burns from jobs and scars from falls. But those experiences were worth it.  

Dear body, as I grow older I worry about how you will age. Together we gain wisdom and wrinkles, after being young and beautiful and naïve. The wisdom tells us that the beauty doesn’t subside, it only changes, and more of it comes from within.  So I won’t worry when my hair doesn’t look just right, or when I do something stupidly funny and emerge with another scar because you are telling a story. And what would I be without my story and my past?

TWLOHA

#ShitHappens; What Can You Do?

Ughh; I'm an awkward ass fuckin clutz; lol smh.

Yesterday; I deleted 3 to 4 years of pictures out of my phone on accident. That's all the adventures of senior year; 1 or maybe 2 relationships {I think only 1}; freshman year shenanigans and a summer to remember. FML; somethin serious. So; I'm not gonna lie I cried...thought it was the end of the world and tried my damnedest to recover all those pics. And I almost had them; the memories flooded their way across my computer screen but eventually most ended up corrupted and I gave up. Yea; corrupted; just like all the things that make up my past relationships and friendships that didn't wanna keep going. They were corrupted; either by internal or external forces and eventually; they're gone and I give up. But you trust; I fought --for those pics and my relationships.

In the process of tryna get back some pictures that I rarely look at {I just find comfort in knowing they're there}; I deleted two weeks of texts and 3 phone numbers; one of which I wanna kick myself in the face for losing. I shoulda just let the pictures go cuz now I may have compromised something else....FML again.


The point I guess I'm tryna make at damn near 3'o'clock in the morning is: sometimes people hold onto the very thing God Himself is tryna rip away from you. I hope that everyone's life works out for the best...I wish it were a fairytale and no one ever felt the pain of being alone or depressed or let down but its not. This is real life and its going to hurt; you just have decide what you're willing to put up with. You can love someone to the end of the earth but you can't make them love you back. There is no correct explanation that will capture your lovers heart if they don't want you. But; uh I've been told life goes on...so; I'm gonna just cross my fingers and hope for a text message...I probably have soooo much more to say; but I'll save it for another post. Ughh; I need a person...someone to be good to; only if they're good to me though. #ShitHappens; What Can You Do? Uh; live I guess...

♥It's not that I don't; it's moreso that I can't...not anymore.

What I've Been Thinking.

Random thoughts: Thank God for best friends. And I've written some really beautiful poems lately... #thatisall.


The hardest thing in the world is watching the one you love, loving someone else. I know it's bound to happen...I hate the thought of it. Scary, honestly. And I rarely ever tell anyone I'm scared of anything except my silly lil fears like thunder and of course, ladybugs; so, consider yourself lucky to have read that.

I don't have any control over anyone else's feelings. I barely have control over my own feelings and shit. I can cross my fingers and wish for people to feel how I want them to feel all I want but no. I can think to myself that no one's gonna love the way that I would, give them all that I would but I can wanna give someone the world all I want but I can't make them take it. It kills me inside. Even when I try to tell myself it doesn't. Even when I try to act like it doesn't. Everybody knows and I wish they didn't.

In similar news, one best friend is headed onto what seems to be a great new adventure, which is awesome. He's the type of guy who gives a girl his all, wish they were all like that but whatever, whatever. The other best friend finds herself questioning everything she's come to know. She's so much like me it's bothersome. And I'm tryna give her advice, knowing I suck at the exact situation she's in, well similarly, cuz honestly, I'm not in a situation, right? I just have the very unfortunate luck of loving a friend...one I'd do anything for, like swallow my emotions...

I wonder if cavemen ever fell in love...you know, so easy a caveman can do it...what if they never did it? That was dumb...it's just hard. Everything will work itself out in time, I suppose. Whatever will happen will. I'm not sure, I'm not even supposed to be thinking about it...but we're rapidly approaching February and I just wanna rub a stomach...weird, yea. It's a throwback kinda feeling...one that I'm feeling by myself.

Now, ain't that some shit, lol, smh.

Chasing Dreams with the Angels

I'm pretty sure I believe in angels...Yuuup, really beautiful ones with hidden wings and sweet heavenly faces and big hearts. I'm really lucky to be honest. I'm surrounded by some amazing people who make my life worth living and provide me with opportunities that I would've missed without them. Not to mention all the love and laughter I share with them. When love and friendship is real and honest, nothing can tear it apart. Not distance or time or insignificant dramas. I don't care if you're in North Carolina or you're in London with a ridiculous five hour time distance, I'm gonna miss you, I'm gonna wish you were next to me sharing these moments of my life, but I also know that when we come back together, it's gonna be like we never left each others side. That's if it's all real. Cause I love my angels and I want all the happiness in the world for them. I'm willing to let you go, I'm more than happy to let you live cause if you need me, you know exactly where to find me. I'll be on the other end of your phone call or text msg or webcam over skype. If you want me, I'm right here.

Only time will tell who will always be an angel in my life. Time and circumstances.

But I've had a lot of time to think and just...breathe. And I almost know exactly what I want...almost. But I have time to figure it out. I'm ready to chase some FUCKING dreams lol. With the help of my wonderful friends and God. --Yea, me and Him got a special thing going on, just between me and Him. I'm spiritual...still tryna figure out if that's synonymous to religious. Oh well.

Here's some random short stories of what the angels do:

• Sit with me in the stairwell while I cry. Stand with me in the rain while we try to jump the car. Tell me their secrets. Tell me I can do anything when I swear I can't. Speed to make it to the carryout before midnight. Buy me Sims 3.
• Go on adventures/roadtrips to the mall. Show me their ass as they're walking down the hallway. Buy me lipgloss. Text me all day long. Help me drag a very drunk person inside while he screams about the things people have done to his balls. Take naps with me. Speak highly of me. Offer to kill my roommate for me. Tell me your escaping from Alcatraz... 
• Make funny videos. Tell me I deserve better. And that we're lucky to escape. Watch sweeny todd with me. Eat donuts. And sushi. And Chipotle. And Coldstones. Also take naps with me. Sing to me/with me. Throw apple sauce at people, the same apple sauce you offered to share with me and when I said yes please, you said no...
• Lay in bed with 3 of the coolest people in the world. (Well only TWO of them are the coolest to me, the other one is cool to her.) Stay up til 7am, mad that we didn't think to get McDonald's breakfast. Skype from 5000 miles away. Get lost while walking in snow storms. Slumber parties. Tons of journals, filled with secrets, dreams, stories, poems. Watch purple ink run down the drain.
• Send good morning and good night texts. Give me back rubs. Write me songs. Send me surprises. Wish you were in this state instead of that state. Sing Kid Cudi with me. Tell me my looks could kill you lol. One last time before you go. Greatest 5 minutes of my life seeing you. Drive me crazy.
• Stay up with me when I can't sleep. Make me brownies. Eat ihop with me.
• Tell me I inspire you and I'm wise and real. Call me lil mama.
• Spill juice on your shirt. Watch Top Model in my lil brother's room. My spiritual advisor. Ask to hang with me cause Zeno is in the room. Play DJ Hero and spades with me.
• Have tree waiting for me. Party with me. Shop with me. Let me keep you company while you're at work. Fistpump.
• Buy me panties. Cry in the movies with me. Fight about who's gonna drive. Take your ugg boats off and walk in 30 degree weather while you're on the phone with "Corey's Father" screaming you love him, LOUD, for everyone to hear...
• Listen to my stories. Fight for me. Ride the subway with me. Tell me the truth. Forgive me. Understand that I need to circle Forever 21 seven times before I actually try something on.
• (THROWBACK) -- Kiss my forehead-nose-lips; in that order. Watch shows with me that you hate at first and then grow to love. Hold my hand. Hug me. Be my biggest fan. Take care of me when I'm sick. Best team ever. Sled in the snow on a piece of cardboard with me. Make me laugh. Say you love me.

Those are all true stories. Each bullet about someone different, someone special. Angels. With beautiful, inspiring, meaningful lives. I love a good group of people. And it feels so right when they love me back. Nothing is perfect, or written in stone for sure what's going to happen, but for now, I've got a oddly great team. Life isn't the best but it could be a whole lot worst...

Don't be discouraged if you're alone; because if you're alone and alive, you've already proven that you don't need anyone.

--So I never actually am alone, I just always feel alone...

The Miseducation of Me to You.

You keep me grounded cuz at times I'm out of whack. Ur an essential part of my everyday activities and I'm happy we're growing to be best friends. I love how you love me and I give much credit to you for helping me get...cuz you never gave up when I did at times. Ur a great encourager even when I don't wanna believe you. You keep it 100 twenty-four seven and I really appreciate that. I couldn't ask for a better friend that's short, cute and brilliant. Ur light shines bright and it's one that anybody would be lucky to be in. I'm just happy that you allowed me to get a glimpse of the amazingness that's yet to come. --probably one of the sweetest things anyone has ever said to me.

Finally. Someone sees something great in me. I can whine that no one understands me, knowing that's not true. It's right there --proof that someone gets me. And I know that there are a little circle of people that understand me and thinks that I'm lowkey awesome in my own special way.

But...I'm what psychologists and Webster call a pessimist. So no matter how much you pour in my glass, I'ma tell you that it's not enough, it's half empty instead of half full, not because I'm selfish but because I've gotten uncomfortably used to disappointment. And for some odd reason, I got all these wonderful ass people loving me but the fact that someone misunderstands me, fucks my whole world up. And it shouldn't but I got this lil' blood pumper called a heart that feels...it doesn't matter how exactly but i feel. I feel like some people are completely miseducated on me. I've been called a lot of things --sweetheart, baby, love, lil mama (in the cute way not the why do u have a ponytail hole cut in ur new era fitted? kinda way), whore, slut, dumb bitch... --and the confession is: I either smile excessively from a gesture of kindness from anyone, or I let words hurt me, even make me cry. I let words hurt me.That's some real honesty. I know, I know, I need to just man the fuck up. Guess I'm just a cry baby...

I AM A SWEETHEART. That's what it is. I've tried to be cold, I've tried to care about everything but these bitches (and interchangeably niggas), but I do. I'm sensitive and emotional and warm-hearted...I'm genuine with my feelings and the things I say. I'm honest cuz I hate to be lied to myself. An okay listener who can sometimes talk too much but I got a nigga (well not a nigga) tellin me about myself. I'm still living off some shit they taught in kindergarten --treat people how you wanna be treated. I can't be savage, I'm not vengeful, or hateful. The fact is, I'ma always tell you how I feel even if I know it has potential to end bad. I can give out advice ALL DAY LONG but my own shit is a beautiful mess that drives me crazy, pierces me in places I wish you didn't still have control over and hurts. Truth is --I'd die for mines. I keep people I love up on a very high pedestal where they're surrounded with respect, understanding, trust and enough love to suffocate the shit outta anybody. But I know they deserve it, especially the ones who say shit like that.

Long story short --I can love people who seem to be complete strangers to me. You should know me better than to think that I'd show you anything but love and respect. But I guess you don't. I'm a lover. A fighter --I'd die for mines. BEST friend; shoulder to cry on. unethical wife of several, girlfriend of a many same sex --in the most heterosexual way. I'm just Yani. And I wish you'd ask me about me before you pass judgement and drop blame.

I ain't do it to be cocky, I do it to be loved and understood cuz everyone, yup EVERYONE deserves that. So, you can tell me about myself, constructively, cuz it'll help me grow. But I wanna grow with you...

Everyday's Forecast.

I'm resisting every urge I have to curl up into a ball and disappear off the face of the fucking earth. I'm in a hateful ass relationship with my own damn emotions. I have a tendency to care. I fall for all the wrong people and things and there's this devastatingly cold lonely feeling that won't get of my fucking back. And most importantly, I'm tired. I'm tired. Of trying with bullshit ass results and misinterpretations of my soul, heart and worth.

But yet, I'm still trying. I have no idea why. I'm taking a lot of heat from people I love, leveling out my pride, bottling up my emotions. I know exactly how I feel but I'm tired of explaining, trying to prove myself. Here's what's going on inside my head in a something slight format.

• BOYS. The one I think I want. The one I probably need. The other one? Funny how this is probably the least of my problems. Always in my head but a solution in itself probably. Everybody loses, lol. --That's not funny.
• We'll call this bullet --LOVED ONES AND LISTS. I have some friends. I don't want them to go on this list I have. It's a list that pains me and makes me sad. Like brings me to tears sad. That is all.
• SCHOOL.
• MOTHER.

I repeat --I'm tired. Tired of the same outcomes and repetitive pains. It's really taking a toll on me that I don't want to express. I just need to sit down. And I think I see everything the way its bound to happen. I'm done. I'm gone. You're just waiting. For what? Idk. New Years is just another day on the calendar. Don't structure our pains around it.

He broke down in tears talking about how God neglected him. --Everyday's Forecast.