*its kinda sick when you think about it; or tragic really…it just hit me a few hours ago when someone asked me “you didn’t relapse did you?” of course I knew exactly what they were talking about…*


They say that pain is weakness leaving the body but I wonder if the roles can be reversed

Weakness consumed me entirely on too many occasions; far too many to count.  Except my subconscious would keep a mental tally

Even if my supplier was only doing a job by fulfilling my need and signing off on my prescription

So much they should probably call me Eminem or maybe just Slim.  I refilled then I relapsed but I never quite reached recovery

Over and over again I’m turning to avoid the lost footage embedded permanently in the frontal lobe because an elephant never forgets

Thought I was utilizing my weakness to remove my pain but instead only moving backwards…this is my relapse accompanied solely by this regret

But admitting to none because once you’ve admitted is when you get committed…and here in theory lies the problem…



Secret Love Affair

“Poetry is she and she is me.  So since I be me, I now present you with…poetry”

Killing me softly with her words

But she dare not be locked away

Because with each word I feel her passion, with each breath she takes to annunciate each syllable, a chill runs down my back; fingers that seem to exist only figuratively in my mind run down my spine; all over my body, touching me in places I never knew existed.

And although he has my heart, poetry is my mistress; the hottest thing since the sun came into existence

We sneak off and proceed to have our way with each other

I tell poetry all of my secrets: my hopes, my dreams my fears,

And poetry listens; allows me to express myself, never judging me.  Poetry uses words to console me

Those words become whole and in her arms poetry chooses to hold me…

Poetry may potentially be my soul mate

And we so choose to continue with this love affair.  Dancing around the idea of expanding our intamicy

Because in the back of my mind I know that she is more than just my mistress

Because into her I pour my everything.  My heat, my soul….

This is poetry.


Inspire me to write poetry so I know its real…

I wanna fall asleep in your arms and wake up to you kissing my body in its entireity from head to toe; holdin on to me so tight I don’t ever wanna get up and go

But I digress…

Because a relationship build solely on sexual desires will last only as long as that last orgasism

I wanna know that we’re connecting on a level that to the naked eye is non-existant


When the police finally arrest me for protesting will you be sharing that seat with me in the back of the patrol car?

If I was Jack and you was Rose would you have come back for me; because of the principle ‘if I jump you jump’?

Even though its cold outside, would you still go with me to the park at night to play on the playground?

But most importantly, would you grease my scalp for me?

I’m hoping that you’ll say yes, so that I know its real

Because as I’m using you body for my pillow and you’re whispering in my ear….

I just wanted to know that today, you inspired me to write poetry

Memoirs of a Girl Child

They’ve been preparing us since day one for this role they claim we must fulfill

Since the moment that little symbol on that little stick popped up, they were plotting and planning

Ballet at age three and what song we’ll walk down the isle to in our wedding.

We are the daughters; the sparkle in their eye.

Or at least that’s what we’re told until that day arrives

When we no longer want to follow the rules; we choose to rebel instead

No more pink ponies and daffodils on our heads

She would read me stories about princess and all that

But she never told me that one day I’d be going back to black

They tried to make me go to rehab cause I’d rather play with Tonka; tried to brainwash me cause I saw something wrong with beauty pageants sponsored by Honda for toddlers who couldn’t even spell their own name…

Now ain’t that a shame

Not taking this for a game, but whenever they ask I always say I’d rather stay the same


In a room full of people, it would seem as though

Nobody but me and you was there.


Perhaps this may be too bold but what I

Propose is that we go somewhere to be alone.

Realignment of our bodies will be quite necessary,

Occasionally pausing to replenish lost electrolytes.

Partaking in this game of twister;

Right hand on left leg, left hand on right leg.

Indescribable combinations…

Accommodations to be made for later interactions. 

Taking turns coming to this climatic…



Touching places that probably shouldn’t be touched.


Out of this request for

Uncensored entertainment,

Group games of monopoly will not suffice.

Heat of the moment like every night because

Temptation exists around every corner. 

Sensual seduction and whatnot….

…These are my inappropriate thoughts