It just overwhelmed me.
For the first time, in weeks....at least.
I know what the trigger was,
there was a trigger. ....
i don't feel like saying what because ...for what?
I just came to say i missed him,
just now
i just missed him in a random moment.
i missed him.
it pissed me off.
Tuesday, October 14, 2014
Monday, October 13, 2014
Interrupting This Bloggram: IN Lieu of Domestic Violence Awareness Month, I'm posting this:
Found this on my other facebook page, dated from 2011 (when I made a NOTE of it). ...the following are some random excerpts taken from a journal I have:
"The following are journal entries from 2003....written only
months before i would visit for the first time, a place that would ultimately
save and change my life.....an open mic by the name of The Cozy. Nothing about these entries has been altered
or rewritten...they are copied just as i wrote them.
Valentines Day 2003
This has officially been the worst day, much less
valentine’s day, of my life….me and "MR." have officially broke
up. He told me to suck a dick today …he
hasn’t been home and isn’t coming and really, I don’t want to ever see him
again….i am beyond being hurt, but I’ll make it…I have to…im at work…and no one
is here except Leroy and a fat man…it is so boring in here…”Deeluscious” is
sleep with a blanket, “Paradise” is leaving and I’m bored to tears….i’m so
thirsty ….all I have is a dollar I found somewhere and I owe Miss Joyce damn
near $20.
3/10/03
Its been so long since I wrote in here…but my life has
continued to be filled with sad, depressing days….they’ve been so pathetic that
I’ve not been in the mood to write….but there have been days that stood out
more than others that I need to write about…about two or three weeks ago on
Valentine’s Day Wknd, I had another one of those “worst days of my life”…the
whole damn weekend was really fucked up…I didn’t even get a happy valentine’s
day…."MR" was drunk and high all weekend and didn’t come home until
Saturday morning only to be high and drunker than I’ve ever seen and started
fighting with me and then, pulled his gun, coked it back and pointed it at me
and I honestly thought he was going to kill me….i was in the bathtub crying
scared as hell…that was one of the moments where you feel like you’re in a life
or death situation….he kept calling me bitches and pointing his gun at me….all
he had to do was pull the trigger….he was aiming right at my face and head…I
ended up running out of the house in the snow until I knew he was gone….but he
can’t understand why I was scared…he told me if it wasn’t for his daughter, he
would kill me….i damn near don’t even want to remember that night….
March 20, 2003
Today was another pathetic day in my life…I found myself
asking for permission to go out of town from someone who’ll call me from the
road and say “I’ll be back” ….only for him to break up with me, make me cry and
make me say I’m not going ….he clearly had that planned…its so embarrassing to
have given up control of my life…I’;m so sad and depressed…its like he just
wants me to be this way….he doesn’t wants me to have friends or go no where or
nothing…he keeps hanging up on me…im thinking about not working and going to a
poetry reading somewhere….by myself….but I don’t know….i’m just so depressed
right now…I can’t stop crying….
3/31/03
Today is the worst bout with depression I’ve ever had….when
I woke up, I knew it would be this way…in the last 48 hours, I’ve managed to
lose $70, my only ID and my only charger for my phone, which is completely
dead…I have cried so much about nothing today…I cried because I couldn’t get
the glue out of my head…my apartment is so nasty , I am embarrassed for my
shadow to see it…but my depression at this point is so severe, I had to make
myself wake up….the only peace I get is sleep….my lip is still very swollen
from fighting with "MR" but I am going to work anyway…I cannot sit in
this house …after driving for a week, I am once again depressed about being
stranded in here…no phone, no car, feeling very ugly…I am so severely close to
suicide…but being my moms only child is holding me back…among a few other
things……………………………………………………….."
-one woman is beaten by her husband, boyfriend or male
lover, every 15 seconds in the US.
-One in four women will experience domestic violence in her
lifetime.
- PLEASE DON'T BE A JUDGMENTAL FRIEND. JUST BE A FRIEND. LEND YOUR EAR, SHOULDER AND WHATEVER ELSE YOU
CAN OFFER. MAKE THE OFFER. IT COUNTS.
SHE WON'T FORGET, EVEN IF YOU THINK SHE'S NOT LISTENING. SHE'S NOT STUPID, SHE'S BROKEN; HER SPIRIT
AND MENTALITY ARE BOTH BROKEN.
*****Starting on October 15, 2014, I will begin (and hopefully keep up with) #16Candles. A daily tribute meant to bring awareness to domestic violence in the most REAL of ways. I won't say how or when....just if you see the link, click it, read it, indulge in it.....and take away something from it forever. Or at least that's my hope. <3
*****Starting on October 15, 2014, I will begin (and hopefully keep up with) #16Candles. A daily tribute meant to bring awareness to domestic violence in the most REAL of ways. I won't say how or when....just if you see the link, click it, read it, indulge in it.....and take away something from it forever. Or at least that's my hope. <3
Sunday, October 5, 2014
Creepshow: Part III
So it was the end of the night.
And folks still wanted to hang out. Somehow I got talked into going to another night spot that was lowkey and quiet. There was a fun group of about 6 of us. We met up. He was with me. He hadn't secured a room for the evening, which I was particularly hoping he had done. We hung out and cracked jokes for another couple of hours and suddenly, it was the wee hours of the morning.
We dispersed. He was still with me. I had to get him to a room. It was about 2 AM in the morning. He suggested staying with me due to it being so late and check ins and leave out times and blah blah, blahhhhh........End result was I brought him back to my house. Same attitude. But I knew what to expect. Especially after drinks were involved. He went and laid in my bed. I went and took a shower. A looooong shower. I mean, I was probably in the shower for about an additional hour. My hot water furnace-thingy was the shit ! By the time I left out of the bathroom in total, he was snoring so loud that I didn't even need to tip toe.
I dressed in a long, dark tshirt, a bra, some panties and some night pants that stopped at the kneecaps. I slid in the bed like a feather on the creep. I laid flat on my back and just as I closed my eyes, he rolled over and put his arm around me. Despite having been in the throws of REM, it was as if his energy detected mine the minute it came into the room. He turned his body towards me. I turned on my side, giving him my back. In my mind, in MY perception of the world, of life and of this moment, this was my denial of advances. He instead saw that as my ass wanting to be warmed up. He started rubbing my body and had closed our body contact to zero degrees of separation.
In this moment I thought really quickly; do I give in, like I have often done in the past, even though I have not been interested in sex all day? Or do I stand my ground? I chose to stand. I expressed plainly and clearly that sex was not something I was interested in tonight. I remember that. He somehow interpreted what I was saying, coupled with my body language and full dress as me needing to be physically convinced.
He proceeded to roll me over and climb in between my legs. I mentally became defeated. That quickly, my ground collapsed beneath me and I felt as though nothing I would say would allow what I WANTED, which was no physical contact/sex, to occur. It has always been this way. I have always felt like saying no meant nothing to the men I was saying it to because I either put myself in a faulty situation out of pure spaciness or because I just didn't deserve to say no. So, I said nothing as he began to take my knee length night pants down and proceeded to give me head. I had tried keeping my knees tightened and locked but he easily insisted otherwise.
I just turned my head to the side with tears falling as I heard my poems spinning out of word control. Who was this person laying here? This could NOT be the poet everyone swears is dope. I knew the head was all a set up. And like I thought, it was.
After he thought he won my body over, he sat up, put on a condom and climbed inside of me as if it were what I was created for. He took his time, alternating between slow and medium strokes to faster ones that I hoped if I ad-libbed with, would give us a quick ending. It did not. I laid there, feeling lifeless and less a woman, with tears streaming....and I wrote a poem. In my head, a poem began......
"i am so tired of being men's doormats....
tired of letting them mop my back with muddy ass shoes
Why did I deserve this ? Not just on this night, but in my life and times? Why did I deserve to end up in these situations or to know the people who would treat me with such disdain for my womanhood? He kept stroking and laid his weight on my body; his face feeling like it was tearing into my neck.
I was so disgusted to hear his inhales and feel his exhales.
".....i'm exhausted, from defending my right to say no.
i shouldn't have to do this"
"..most men would rather fuck my feathers lose one at a time and i use my voice as invisible please do not enter me tape
...but they wanna go under it anyway"
After what felt like eternity and a false hope for an ending, he requested I get on top of him. I obliged. Still in tears. In my dark bedroom, on my bed. MY bed. I rode him, hoping to get this over with as soon as possible when I heard the metaphor in my head:
" ...i rode him like a 1000 year old corpse,
hips dripping with disgust"
....when it was finally over, i got off of him and laid back in my original sneak space on the left side of the bed. "What is it you were saying again?, he said."
I created an entire poem out of those exact lines and others the next day.
I never spoke to him again.
I never even understood what happened that night.
I went on hiatus for awhile. I changed my name while there.
I straightened my shoulders,
started back performing and tried to forget anything that would affect me from that night when my NO was turned into a YES in a defeated consent.
And folks still wanted to hang out. Somehow I got talked into going to another night spot that was lowkey and quiet. There was a fun group of about 6 of us. We met up. He was with me. He hadn't secured a room for the evening, which I was particularly hoping he had done. We hung out and cracked jokes for another couple of hours and suddenly, it was the wee hours of the morning.
We dispersed. He was still with me. I had to get him to a room. It was about 2 AM in the morning. He suggested staying with me due to it being so late and check ins and leave out times and blah blah, blahhhhh........End result was I brought him back to my house. Same attitude. But I knew what to expect. Especially after drinks were involved. He went and laid in my bed. I went and took a shower. A looooong shower. I mean, I was probably in the shower for about an additional hour. My hot water furnace-thingy was the shit ! By the time I left out of the bathroom in total, he was snoring so loud that I didn't even need to tip toe.
I dressed in a long, dark tshirt, a bra, some panties and some night pants that stopped at the kneecaps. I slid in the bed like a feather on the creep. I laid flat on my back and just as I closed my eyes, he rolled over and put his arm around me. Despite having been in the throws of REM, it was as if his energy detected mine the minute it came into the room. He turned his body towards me. I turned on my side, giving him my back. In my mind, in MY perception of the world, of life and of this moment, this was my denial of advances. He instead saw that as my ass wanting to be warmed up. He started rubbing my body and had closed our body contact to zero degrees of separation.
In this moment I thought really quickly; do I give in, like I have often done in the past, even though I have not been interested in sex all day? Or do I stand my ground? I chose to stand. I expressed plainly and clearly that sex was not something I was interested in tonight. I remember that. He somehow interpreted what I was saying, coupled with my body language and full dress as me needing to be physically convinced.
He proceeded to roll me over and climb in between my legs. I mentally became defeated. That quickly, my ground collapsed beneath me and I felt as though nothing I would say would allow what I WANTED, which was no physical contact/sex, to occur. It has always been this way. I have always felt like saying no meant nothing to the men I was saying it to because I either put myself in a faulty situation out of pure spaciness or because I just didn't deserve to say no. So, I said nothing as he began to take my knee length night pants down and proceeded to give me head. I had tried keeping my knees tightened and locked but he easily insisted otherwise.
I just turned my head to the side with tears falling as I heard my poems spinning out of word control. Who was this person laying here? This could NOT be the poet everyone swears is dope. I knew the head was all a set up. And like I thought, it was.
After he thought he won my body over, he sat up, put on a condom and climbed inside of me as if it were what I was created for. He took his time, alternating between slow and medium strokes to faster ones that I hoped if I ad-libbed with, would give us a quick ending. It did not. I laid there, feeling lifeless and less a woman, with tears streaming....and I wrote a poem. In my head, a poem began......
"i am so tired of being men's doormats....
tired of letting them mop my back with muddy ass shoes
Why did I deserve this ? Not just on this night, but in my life and times? Why did I deserve to end up in these situations or to know the people who would treat me with such disdain for my womanhood? He kept stroking and laid his weight on my body; his face feeling like it was tearing into my neck.
I was so disgusted to hear his inhales and feel his exhales.
".....i'm exhausted, from defending my right to say no.
i shouldn't have to do this"
"..most men would rather fuck my feathers lose one at a time and i use my voice as invisible please do not enter me tape
...but they wanna go under it anyway"
After what felt like eternity and a false hope for an ending, he requested I get on top of him. I obliged. Still in tears. In my dark bedroom, on my bed. MY bed. I rode him, hoping to get this over with as soon as possible when I heard the metaphor in my head:
" ...i rode him like a 1000 year old corpse,
hips dripping with disgust"
....when it was finally over, i got off of him and laid back in my original sneak space on the left side of the bed. "What is it you were saying again?, he said."
I created an entire poem out of those exact lines and others the next day.
I never spoke to him again.
I never even understood what happened that night.
I went on hiatus for awhile. I changed my name while there.
I straightened my shoulders,
started back performing and tried to forget anything that would affect me from that night when my NO was turned into a YES in a defeated consent.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)