If I were a man,
I’d want to dick around too.
But you know what I’d do?
I’d train my brain and my dick,
To pretend that one vagina,
Was as many as I want.
So I don’t hurt that one,
Heart and brain that agreed,
To go through shitstorms with me.
This morning, as I had my pretentious coffee,
I rifled through a pretentious magazine,
That came with the unpretentious papers.
Saw an advert for a store selling armchairs,
Their tagline was “Inspired by a dream”;
Amused, I wondered what furniture I’d churn,
If it were to be inspired by my latest dream,
A double homicide, a slasher on the lose,
With the knife dripping fresh blood,
Being chased by hungry hungry hippos.
Freud and Neitzsche, can you hear me?
Why do I always have red on my mind?
Yoga and Capoeira, Pilates and Jogging,
In Under Armour and no underpants,
Nothing brings more peace and joy,
Like dreaming of steel knife in windpipes.
I asked my daughter,
What dya want to be,
When you are a big girl?
Her answer made me
Want to dig my own grave,
On a stolen plot somewhere,
And jump in, without a tank
Of Oxygen or Oxycodone.
What an oxymoron!
I didn’t even want the grave marked,
For she said she wants to be a “socialite”.
“I am God”, said an asswipe.
Blew his horns, sounded from a pipe.
All you bloody did was see a shrink,
Who helped you get outside of hell’s brink.
Like a Jungle-man beating his chest,
You proclaim that you are the best.
You can walk on water,
Do things like in the gutter.
Make wine out of pee-pee,
Glamorous gold shit-shit.
Fucking whores on a schoolnight,
I’mma choke your windpipe.
Don’t mess with me, dickhead,
Might light fire to your fucking bed.
Phoney baloney bastards,
A match made in hell,
Selling shit like Starbucks.
If I didn’t know, I couldn’t tell.
All bling-bling without a ting,
All ting-ting without warning.
Fuck you to damnation, you toad slime.
I’mma gonna curse you till it’s my time.
My gut falls,
I see U.
Fuck this summer.
I ain’t getting out of here,
Unless I am in a box,
Dangles her baby,
Saying, here, take it.
I love you more,
Than I love the baby.
And you still sneer,
And say, fuck off.
Don’t need you anymore,
Got myself a vibrator,
Just gotta have a beer
And go at it like Terminator.
You feel empty,
You were unhappy,
You selfish prick,
You had to fill the hole,
With my shattered soul?
You had to make yourself happy,
By making me feel crappy?
Yes, it’s true what they say. Money cannot buy you happiness. But it sure can buy you 5 star vacations and that’s about as happy as a grown-up can get. Sure, there’s the unhinged, unwavering, unwarranted happiness that is in a child. But that child grows up, in a society fret with problems. Problems created by grown-ups who build schools and colleges to help solve those problems. Talk about going in circles.
I have been on the planet over three decades and I can narrow down to two moments of sheer joy: one, when I married my now adulterous husband, and two, when I saw the man holding my baby in his arms. If that isn’t true love, I fail to see what is. And that same man denied me a hug a minute ago because “he needed some time apart”. I don’t even have any Valiums on me to counter that shrug. All I can do is whine to the world, where I know I am not even going to be heard. This man, he cheated, lied, and beat me up and blamed me for everything. I have started thinking that maybe I am the monster who torments someone so much they want to beat the shit out of them.
I have sobbed, slept on hotel floors, waited for a taxi at 2 in the morning because I was thrown out of the house, made to leave my child behind, been called a whore who can’t even sell her body for sex, and beaten up black and blue; why? Because I asked this person why he needed another woman in his life.
Five tequila shots down, I finally have the courage to share my story. I know there would be several women out there going through this and worse shit possible. If you are one of them, leave a message and the least we can do is give a metaphorical shoulder to cry upon. YES, face it, world! Women cry. They’re not being melodramatic, they’re just being real.
And if you are one of those wife-beaters, please, for the love of whatever you love, stop doing that, no matter how much she provokes you. You were born out of a woman. And just because someone annoys you or you are filled with rage, does not give you the right to hit a woman. Women are not the weaker sex. Women are the smarter sex. That’s why “housewives” is more common than “househusbands”. That’s right, we put our pedicured feet up and send the man to make money to buy us shoes.
In spite of everything, a woman would do anything in her power and beyond to protect her family. She is not just a mama bear to her sons and daughters. She’s mothering you as well, the “breadwinner”. She’s the glue that keeps it together; without her, everything would fall all over. RESPECT, mofos, RESPECT!
Once again, I hit refresh,
A million times a minute.
Once again, I check the dial tone,
A million times a minute.
Once again, I hope against hope,
A million times, I cry.
Once again, I pray,
A million times, to make it right.
Once again, my heart breaks,
A million little pieces scattered.
What is it called,
When the left side of the body,
Feels heavier and hurting,
Like someone smashed it with hammer?
What is it called,
When catatonia takes over,
A perfectly healthy body,
Like all the blood is drained out?
What is it called,
When the eyes go dry,
But there’s loud sobs,
Like a whale separated from it’s calf?
What is it called,
When you are in a crowd,
But are left alone crying,
Like a war torn border?
What is it called,
When the shoulders are slumped,
Walking in the rain
Like a wet pup looking for a home?
Uppers and downers,
Calmers and sleepers,
All gone from the cabinet,
No herbs, no chemicals,
One day rolled into another,
And another, blanketed by fog.
Tears have run dry,
There is no home.
Heartache and heart attack,
Can’t tell the difference.
Pain runs through the veins,
Blood dries through the rains.
Only wish, someone takes the knee,
When the last breathe dies.
In the waiting.
Pills like Nurse Jackie,
Chicken and rosemary,
Silver tooth glittering.
Shot glasses, lime wedges,
Shite music blaring.
Anxious and loving,
Caring and soothing,
Tossed out without thinking.
Anger and frustration,
Raging bitch manifestation.
Sleep now, little one.
Mama’s gotta be strong,
For you and them bones.
Breathe in, breathe out,
If it wasn’t for that drought,
There’d be water in the well,
And we’d kill the mademoiselle.
Weekend rang in,
Offices close at five.
Empty parking lots,
The old cigarette stench,
The pop of the bottle of wine.
Stage a protest at home,
Drive your Jeep, solicit in the dump.
“Late night meetings”, hahaha,
Dya think I was born without a brain?
GPS trackers and dropping pins,
Are for pathetic losers.
“Jackass, I can run you over”,
That’s not a threat,
It’s just your way of saying,
Fuck off, bitch.
Yes! This just in,
Don’t need to see your pin.
I know the skivvy bunch,
Even when it deals me a punch.
Oh wait! I’m out,
But just realised,
I used your toothbrush,
To clean out the toilet.
It would smell better now,
Because Clorox takes out the germs;
But once it goes back in your mouth,
It would again need purification.
Didn’t mean to use your toothbrush,
It just happened.
Like you swam in my toilet,
And I peed in your pool.
Hey old man,
When you hit yourself,
With that iron rod,
Because they didn’t listen,
Because they refused to grow up,
Because they dissed you,
Because they didn’t procreate;
You saw the evil in her heart,
You heard the vroom of the broom,
You felt the satan living within,
You tasted the poison she oozed.
Why didn’t you split her head in two?
Instead of getting eighteen stitches,
On your twisted but wise noggin?
Had you done that,
I wouldn’t have wanted to
Drink bleach and cut myself with glass.
On it’s back.
Legs flailing in air,
Crushed by a big shoe,
That’s going to be you,
Bitch, please; enough drama.
Plenty dicks in the sea.
If nothing, this cockroach
Can breath life into your hole.
I got one way tickets,
To a place I don’t want to go.
I have no home,
But here I am, not being slow.
I am asked to leave,
Because I fought,
For the love of my life,
And for being a bad wife.
I did nothing wrong,
Or so I think.
When I was shown my flaws,
I began to sink.
With a heavy heart,
I kissed my child,
Told him to go to school,
And not be a tool.
A decade of happiness,
Was deciphered as unhappiness.
I had no idea I was living a lie,
I thought everything was,
As sweet as a pie.
My two best men,
They let me go;
To face the world,
With a broken mould.
I want to go back,
And give them a hug.
But I know, before long,
I will be a rug.
My tears mean nothing,
My heart is still longing,
For that one person to say,
You belong here darling.
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