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Here I go again
Here I go again, I haven't heard from you in a while and the last time I did when our conversation ended I decided to let
go. It was something I had to do, I mean it just made sense you know. Your where you are, and I am here. Here in this place
in my mind, in my physical and all. I realized I felt something more than you could handle at that time and it seemed to be
it would always be deeper than anything you could ever handle. Then I gave thought to the strange idea that you just didn't
want that from me but being a bit vain I dismissed that feeling as easily as I conjured it up. I may never know what what
your hesitation is about now even though i understood it then. But here I go again, I close my eyes and see you, I hear you
laugh and I see your anger and even feel your hurt. and it happens all at once. My head is a bit dizzy from this, I enjoy
it and its intoxication, yet I feel myself pulling away from this feeling because it always only last for the moment...Damn!
why do I seem to get myself in this situation with you every single time. I laid as a stranger in your shadow and stumbled
over my words so much that their meaning got lost in translation and love, love couldn't have even explain what I felt when
I was near you when i thought of you....D... Damn here it is and I still can't say it, even though i already have...... to
be continued
Rambling
How do you feel when your not supposed to. How do you express when you
don't know how to. How to do want when you are so far away. Rage, anger jealousy fills my viens... regret hurt and wonder
fill my heart, I hate the what ifs, the maybes the only ifs.... where are you? You told me I would always be there with you
but my presence is not only absent but gone. I feel abandoned, thrown away and I shouldn't, I have no right to, but it doesn't
stop the way I feel right now. Assumptions are made and inwardly I react upon them. I know thats wrong and even illogical,
but for some reason in this moment I have abandoned all reason and logic for what I feel.
Life Support
Organs:
1) Heart
2) Lungs
3)Kidney
4)Liver
5)Bladder
Three months ago I lost my lungs and now I can't breath. I applied for life support to receive artificial lungs, but my
request is still pending. The lack of oxygen to my heart has been affecting how it functions. Sometimes it skips a beat and
then there are days I won't feel it at all. My kidney, liver and bladder remain silent. They stand off afar and watch. My
body is decomposing and my other organs suffer.
Life support was approved today, but for some reason my heart seems to know the difference. It will not beat for me, it
will not work, it just sits there in its cavity still. Pain often radiates through me, my thoughts are influenced by it and
I act irrational. I have been holding in the air I had left when I lost my lungs but my air supply is low. I plead for them,
not a replacement, but the same ones I had. The ones that helped me breath easy when the air was filled with smog. The ones
that helped me breath better when I accomplished my goals. The ones that catered to the rest of my body.
The pain was unbearable, so I sat in the bathroom today in the dark. I cried out loud one last time as my body violently
trembled. Engulfed in flames of depression I contemplated, rationalized and finally decided I could not live with out my lungs.
Life for me could never be alright. Frantically, I looked around and saw a blade. My eyes filled with a tiny ocean of salty
water with an anticipated over flow. My vison blurred and my hands tremble as I reach out. I felt my hand cover one side of
the blade and I closed my eyes allowing a tiny river to stream down my face in perfect alignment. I rushed the blade to my
arm and forcefully ran it across my wrist, suddenly a calm came over me, everything was silent there were no more fights,
no more tears, no more pain no more of nothing it was just me and the silence.
Dirty
I am tired, and not just for today. My weariness comes from a place so tunnled it goes well beyond me being, my
blood, my flesh, my DNA, the fibers that individually create me, or even the molecule that forms my fibers. The tunnle concludes
with my soul. To what is supposed to conect me to my father, my creator. My eyes shall close every night and even sometimes
during the day, but never will I be rested. I am weary, restless, worn out,and broke down. I crave to be invisable, not just
to ones eyes, but to the earth. I long to absent and not just in body but absolutely in mind. I wonder about my life before
this and what it was. Is this one to punish me for the previous one, or am I a prisoner of myself. The air I breath does not
substain…my insides rot and they have a foul smell. I am in pain and it makes me angry, I feel rage. I am furious and
I want to curse creation with it. I want to be free I beg from my spirit from my soul to just be free. Up and down I go all
around in a whirlwind out of control, but never showing it. Each time my face invents itself again I am left with the old
cracked verson of myself to clean up, and I can not any more. I hurt, and I want to hurt more. I want to bathe in it, wrap
myself with it.I want to feel my face rubbed inthe dirt and mud. I want to be foul and disgusting.
What your made of
What is you purpose I asked the blind grey hair woman. To be your eyesight in the darkness, to guide you where you are
supposed to be. Gently, comforting she grabbed my hand and we walked. I stumbled over debre in the road, while she confidentially
strutted pass all I thought she couldn't see.
We walked in the still-ness of the dark until an active young woman leaped
out in front of us. She was beautiful to say the least, she was strong, loud and alive. Confused I looked to the side of me
to ask the old woman for help, but she was gone. Slowly, I directed my attention to the lady and I asked… what is your
purpose…to quietly move you to your next place without notice. Without notice!, I thought. She was so loud and even
her clothing was bright, but just as she promised she did as she said. We walked through the noise filled streets. Screaming,
and yelling and even some fights. She danced and laughed as loud as she could and slowly we walked until
A sweet little
girl stood before us. Hesitantly I looked to my side and the active lady was gone. What is your purpose I asked the little
girl.To fight for you when you don't know how to fight. Fight for me??? This little girl, Well I hope the battles will be
few. She took my hand and on our journey we began. We came up against beasts and things, but she fought them all. Up in the
air her tiny hands would go and one by one they all would fall. When she was done fighting for the last time; in amazement
I turned to her and asked her how. Pleasantly she smiled, Everyone has a heart some warmer than others but all reachable.
Silence fell over us like a blanket as we walked. We walked until a brilliant light blinded me. When my vision restored,
sitting in front of me was a baby. A baby fresh out of the womb. How was I supposed to address this baby I thought. No answer
came spouting out of the earth, nor did an earthquake shake the dirt in to an answer. Instead out of the mouth of the babe
is where my answer came. My purpose is to carry you over death, around death, and under it, so you can know its characteristics.
Impossible, I thought, but just as she said she lifted me up and carried me. I got to look death in it face and when I saw
it in every shade and color and could recognize it on my own, she carefully put me down. My mind now in total disray at what
happened. How did you, Before I could finish my question she answered, Life is how. I am life and I make people face death
everyday.
My head now light and I was feeling slightly dizzy from everything the day had brought,when suddenly I saw the
old blind grey hair woman, the active lady, the little girl and the baby took her place nest to them. One by one as they walked
towards me and they help me understand them better. The old blind grey hair woman explained to me, Sometimes being blind to
what you think your eyes can see helps you to see what your eyes can not.
The active lady explained, Sometimes putting
yourself out there helps you to keep yourself concealed.
The little girl explained not always does fighting mean your
fist needs to be bawled, love is a sharp razor and it will cut through.
Finally, the baby smiled as she looked at me with
her beautiful eyes, All the time life provides you strength.
They all took their place in me and left me with a knowledge
I will never forget,
I have everything I need inside of me. I just need to learn to take the time to look, go out, love
and live.
Stranger in the shadow
In a shadow is where I laid next to you, thinking of you as if you weren't there. Time in its essence slowed down for me,
allowed me to see you. Time gave me a moment with you, to touch you, to watch you to re-live all I had for you. How do I tell
you this, where would I even began. Circumstance, time and the unknown dictates fate. I lay next to you in this shadow and
envelope myself in the thought of what connecting with you would be like, how intense, how shallow. Seldom do we get to meet
someone that possess the ability to convey or even comprehend the complexities about you or at best themselves. I laid there
in the shadows and thought about that over and over again failing at all attempts to convince myself what I was feeling was
an exaggeration. D....Damn,.......I can't do it, I won't do it... the different variations of tones and pitches that lay patiently
along the walls on my vocal cords won't eloquently fuse together to make the thorough sound of speech for me it usually does
so effortlessly. The very thought of opening my mouth to say the words that sit on my chest like a ton weight makes it even
more harder to talk. So, I lay there next to you audibly silent, screaming out for you to know, to hear me...... to possibly
even feel the same.....instead you peacefully sleep to the unknown stranger in the shadow.
To be continued..........
To be continued
My thoughts run on and on leaving me in a frantic.... what did I do! I can not get away from the possibility
that I could have made something secretly complex but publicly and comfortably simply, a whirlwind of confusion. I replay
my words in my head and each time I feel like a writer that has block. I looked at the words shake my head in disapproval
and bawl up the paper; yet in reality this is something I can not do. Pandora's box has been opened and now I must wait to
see how the wave of entities in it will effect. I force myself to think of something different but like it has been branded
to me I can not get rid of the thoughts. D...... Damn, D..... Damn, and I still can't even fathom saying the words in front
of you, and maybe that's why the thought if them are engulfing me in confusion. My mind's eyes paces back and forth in wonder
of what's to come........
To be continued.................
In Conclusion
As I listen to you speak of someone else the sound is familiar with the sound of finger nails scratching
against a blackboard. The sound seems to be etched in my skin and branded in my mind. I feel a wave of reality and it begans
to make everything so clear. I continue to listen as I lay in the bossom of what reality has laid out for me and slowly a
calm comes over me. My mind and its rationality begans to settle back in the place where it belongs. My nerves I can feel
are beganing to rest and you are becoming just my friend again.
So, this game, this interlude that I conjored up, this elusion of something I thought could be has ended as quickly as
it seemed to began, and things between you and I will return to where they were maybe where they should be.....maybe where
they were all along.
THE END.
Lost in translation
Sometimes things can be said in midst of thoughts and the real meaning is lost in translation. If shared
and not given proper warning subjects are likely to retain the wrong information. Now..... for my thoughts
I am confused, I must be able to say that first before I can even began to rationalize what it is I am going through. What
I know I am not confused about is the emotions I have. Feelings do come and go, and so does phases, but authentic emotions
or expressions of who you are and what is in you remains the same. Actions sometimes can be altered to portray an elusion
of what is real, just as words can. The only way to actually know that something is real is to know what is real. You have
to be able to absorb it, recognize it even with your eyes closed. You have to be able to hear it in silence and it should
speak for itself..... these are the things that real does.....it is undeniable and permanent. Real is what I know my emotions
are despite the false-ness of what the situation may bring my real-ness is undeniable, permanent and even though situations
that may arise and facts point to unfavorable outcomes for me again I say what I know is real is the translation of my emotions,
my emotions for you, and for what the thought of you is.
So, there are times when words are phrased together to form a sentence, or perhaps even a thought, but the meaning of it
all gets lost in translation.
Flaws
Category: Life
Crystals, diamonds, gold and silver have their value, but could never exceed a flaw. days continue to past and what i have
for you grows. i look for your flaws, i want to get to know them. i search for your weakness, is it strange that i want them
to be mine.... emotions run ranpid, they flucuate around you, for you, with you. your flaws are what interest me, intrigue
me. your flaws are you pure and bare.
A time or two ago
Category: Romance and Relationships
A time or two ago my body tingled for you, with you, around you and I am finding myself there again. I lose myself in my
thoughts of you. my mind seems consumed with clouds of you and I can't see nothing else. Your voice seeks me out and finds
me. The tone, the variations, they soothed me, I relax in them as I listen. What a sweet melody. I've watched you sleep while
I contured the shadow of your physique. I'd played with the thought of waking you just so my skin could fuse with yours even
for just a second. I'd fondle the thought of you near me, on me, and I suddenly feel my teeth gently grab the corner of my
bottom lip. hmmm is the only expression my body will offer. I'd gently sweep my fingers across your hair and watched you change
position in wonder. Your presence does something to me, it affects my thoughts and commands my reactions. I'd finish watching
you and continue thinking how a time or two ago I once was here and now I am here once again.
The Sky and the ground
Category: Romance and Relationships
Standing in the front of the chilled, smudged glass. One foot rested on the metal radiator that stands out beneath, looking
out at the sky. The sky that seems to know no time and can always make you believe the same story if it pleases. I listen
to the clouds as they calmly pass by and tell me today is yesterday and the day before. I smile in the comfort of their words
until I look down and see you walking on the ground. For some reason the ground does not treat me the same, its wear and tear
forces me to confront the old man the sky lead me to believe I had gotten away from.....time. You walk alone, in a single
file. Unknowing, maybe uncaring that I can see. You don't look up as you use to. You have some how allowed yourself to become
ignorant to me, to you, to us and what we use to have. It all comes rushing back now, that you told me to forget and never
bother you again. You want me to act as if we never met. How could I....when my belly is obviously raised and nature commands
me to nuture half of your DNA. How could I when you still own my life source, the sun for my life...my heart.... Failing at
all attempts I try again and again to make your wish my command...... Quickly I rush to the place I just saw you so I could
breath your air, and in my mind I am next to you. I walk the exact steps you took and inmy mind I walked with you. I look
as far as my eyes can see but you are not there. You stand right in front of me and still you are not there..... Screaming,
and wailing my arms I try to get your attention, but instead I am invisible to you.....Tomorrow will come and the sky will
lie to me again, and I will smile and listen until the ground tells me the truth.
Writers Block
Category: Blogging
Blocked, can't go any further, lost for words, sentence doesn't make sense. Format is immature, amateur, not as good as
it can get or should be for public reading. Frustration, impatient, I'm done. Second thoughts, third thoughts, and back to
the beginning. Desire for approval leading to anxiety, forgetting your thoughts and mis-spelling words. Errors, typographical,
punctuation and more. Nothing is working for you nothing at all. Ideas, bright one dull ones and even the irrelevant ones.
Free writing, journal writing, diary writing to make it work, yet your stuck right where the cursor blinks. It taunts you,
laughs at you while it waits. Come on it screams at you, frightening you, making you nervous, confusing you. I need a break,
maybe some coffee to give me a jolt…but nothing. No jolt, no idea, not any new ones at least. Damn this writers block
I'm never going to finish.
1. Does this sound like you, Well, I believe we may have a solution for you. All you have to
do is pay 16 easy payments of 29.99 and we'll not only give you ideas, but if you act now we can offer you some already written
work
Act now, act now, act now the words ring in your ears. Slowly your eyes open, now confused your looking around the
room. Suddenly it hits you….you were asleep and more importantly ….writers don't really have block they just have
many different thoughts going on at once.
Is it real
Category: Romance and Relationships
Both of our breathing labored, the excitment of feeling you near me lightens my head. Our eyes convey a mutual message,
an age old message, yet to us a seemingly personal message. I want you, I need you,I love you. Fear of closing my eyes to
re-open them to emptiness. My body reacts to you, to your silent commands. Your touch, it does something to me as mines does
to you. Your fingers trace my face slowly and thoroughly, my lips, the shape of my eyes, my eyebrows, my cheekbones, my nose.
My skin begans to allow tiny inperfections to raise as an affect of your touch. My heart throbing erractically, my thoughts,
scrambled, blissful-ness is my state and the only expression that will suffice are the tiny beads of salty water streaming
down my face. Ecstasy is where is we are, but it is not where we will stay.
I compromise myself and accept actions from you that I will from no one else. I expose myself to all types of mental and
emotional punishment in your name, and yet during that time you seem not to notice. I watch you and __, laughing, talking,
touching, kissing, loving one another. My stomach grows weak, but I am strong I tell myself as I sit there forcing a smile
no matter how faint. Tons of weight seem to be seated upon my chest cavity and my breathing becomes shallow, yet I struggle
to show you how strong I am, when I am not, just being around you makes me weak, and seeing you love someone else makes death
seem wonderful. 20 years of my life is what I would give if I could have you all to myself.
Instead I linger around and intrude on your quality time with your other half. I placed myself in a postion everyday to
inevitably be hurt by jestures, smiles, words, and all a couple is supposed to share. I sit around waiting, just for a moment
with you 1 minute or two anytime at all, but in the end nothing is what I will really get. Your married and the ring you wear
does not match mine, yet I stick around anyway waiting for silence to fall upon us. Maybe I can steal another special moment
with you, but special they really aren't. They're just lustful, heated moments. Moments of the flesh which we seem to misunderstand
as being moments of passion, love. They're not though, none of them are real just as the illusion of our relationship isn't
either….
Don't Just Think Out side The Box Unlock It!
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: AN INTRODUCTION
Initially,
when I first decided to tell my story, I wanted to use a bunch of fancy words. I thought if I did, more people would
read it, and give me praise for my articulation. I revised the truth so many times until finally, I realized
the words that starred back at me was not about me. I had created some theatrical formatt of the truth. It was then I realized
if I was going to tell my story I was going to tell it as it happened.
When
I was young the world was not a safe place for me. The prominate person in my life in charge of protecting
me failed to do her job. Everyday I faced my offender alone. I had no one there to abandone common sense and rationality
on my behalf, there were only three people in my world... and they were Christopher, Toni and me. Everyday was
a nightmare coated with happiness yet full of pain, and betrayal. As I got older and began telling my story I started
receiving special treatment. Somehow, it became a major deciding factor on how other adults saw me. It was as if
I was fragile and was placed in a special handicap catorgory. Mistakes I made were looked over. My younger
childhood suddenly became a valid excuse for my actions. Eventually, I began to think making excuses instead of taking responsibility
was ok. Fickle is the mob though, as I began to grow accustomed to making excuses it wasn't long before the same people told
me my jig was up. I had spent so much time trying to be what everyone wanted me to be instead of finding
out who I was. So, I had a journey to go on, and what I learned from my journey is what I want
to share with you.
It was dark as I laid on my rollout cot,
snuggled under blue cotton sheets, and smelled of baby powder and lotion.
I rubbed my legs together to feel the softness of my skin. My eyes were heavy but as usal I struggled to keep them open.
I could see my uncle Raymond and his girlfriend Rose as they lay together. My uncle was a tall, dark man. His hair was
cut short, and he had a deep, yet soft voice. He seemed
to be almost a giant to Rose who was short and light skin. She was a thin woman who wore her hair in a mushroom style with the curls slightly to tight. Her voice sounded as if she had
been yelling the night before. I could see the silhouetee of their bodies. I could hear them whispering to one another,
but couldn't make out what they were saying. I continued to watch them until my eyes closed.
Christmas was the next morning. My brother Rasheed and
I couldn’t wait to see what we got. There were so many gifts and we didn’t know what to open first. My brother
tore the wrapping off one gift laid it down and grabbed another. My uncle Raymond and Rose sat on the wool like couch
smiling as they watched us. Soon after we opened all our gifts Rose told me to get dressed.
It was cold outside. The ground was covered with thick
white flakes. None of it was dirty like it gets when its been there for a while. I could hear my plastic rubber
boots crunch it softness with each step I took. I looked up at Rose while we walked and asked where we were going. She smiled
when she looked down at me, and replied, "we're going to my sister's house, so I can show her how pretty my baby
is." I smiled back and slid my cold hand in to her pocket and we continued to walk in silence. The house was huge, I
had never seen a house so big. There was a small front yard with dead flower beds. The front door was silver and
detailed with Victorian accents. The door knob looked antique, and somehow still maintained it's shine in the cold.
Rose rang the pearl colored doorbell, but didn't get an answer. I peered up at Rose and saw her noise and ears were red. Her
hand trembled in her pocket.We stood there a few moments longer before she pulled her black leather purse that had crackes
from cold off her shoulder. She paced in place from side to side as she shuffled through her purse. Finally she pulled
a small key ring out with several keys on it. Quickly, she scanned
through the keys and grabed one and stuck it in the door. The moment the door opened there was a gush of warm air. Rose laid her hand on my back and guided me in. After Rose shut and locked
the door, she put her hands that had been frantically trembling up to her mouth and blew on them. She told me to go in
the living room and sit down. I sat on the couch with my hands on my lap and began to look around. Rose startled me when she
turned the television on from the dinning room and told me I could watch TV. I swung my body back around to see the big
screen television playing cartoons. The sofa at Rose's sister
house was very soft. I felt like I was sinking in the cushions, and soon felt myself falling to sleep. Rose woke
me up with a baked potato with melted cheese. "Here, eat this, and when we're done we'll go back home," she said as she
held out the potato on small plate.
The silverware was heavy and shinny. I imagined myself someplace
fancy and tried to imitate how I thought the other people would be eating. I dipped the fork in the potato slowly
and did my best to hold the fork in what I thought was the proper way. When were done eating I grabbed the napkin and dabbed the corners of my mouth. I had
seen many women on television do it that way. The walk back didn't seem as bad.
When we got back to the apartment I could hear my uncle
yelling before Rose opened the door. When Rose opened the door
my uncle began walking towards her. He stop midway and paced in the
other direction. His voice was strained from yelling, about his sister, my mother. I could hear his voice cracking as he continued to yell. "I knew she was going to do this shit." "As soon as I asked her
to turn the check over to us, I knew she was going to do this." "She doesn't even want these dam kids, but all to keep the
check she is going to come get them!" Rose, who had been following Raymond stopped. Rose stood silent
with no expression of her face. Her face carried a blank look, an empty look somewhat mortified look. Slowly she
backed herself up until she reached the sofa and sat down. Calmly she reached in her pocket, pulled out a pack of
cigarettes, lightly tapped the top and pulled one out. Her seemingly calm expression never changed as she lit her cigarette
with trembling hands. Everything seemed to be going in slow motion as I watched her exhale the smoke from the cigarette. She took a breath and asked, “So, when will she be
here.” My uncle stopped pacing the floor and stood beside the couch. With his head hung and his hands in his pockets
he replied, "today." Again, she calmly exhaled more smoke then asked if she and my uncle were going to send our things.
Never saying a word my uncle reached out his hand. Rose gave him her cigarette. He puffed it slowly and nodded his head.
After that there was silence. No one moved, no one talked, and it seemed as if time had stood still.
Months had passed since we left my uncle's house, and
the weather warmed up. It was a beautiful sunny day, and still a nice breeze danced by. I could smell pollen in the air and
the birds flew low enough for me to hear their wings flapping. I sat on the steps of my grandmother Mahailyah's house
when I heard a familiar sound. It was the voice of the guy that shouted out what he was selling over a bullhorn who
drove the fruit truck that rode pass everyday. My mother, Lorraine
and her boyfriend Christopher came running out the house.
I didn't know much about my mother at that time, my brother and I had barely been around her. She was tall and dark, like
my uncle Raymond. She was slightly overweight and wore her hair short. She
went out a lot at night and I'd hear her and my grandmother yelling
about her leaving Rasheed and me home while she went to run the streets.
It never stoped her from going, it just delayed the time she left. So much had changed after my mother came and got us from
my uncle and Rose. Rasheed and I were yelled at and spanked a lot more.
My mother always had friends over, and would tell Rasheed and I to go downstairs and watch television. We would wait until
we thought the cost was clear and go back upstairs and peek through the key hole. We had so much fun running up and down the
stairs laughing about who would get caught.
I don't remember the first day I actually met Christopher.
I can only remember from the first day he violated me. Christopher was a tall man and wore his hair long. He was light skin
and thin. His fingers were thin, yet his hands were big. His eye sockets made his eyes look as if they were going to fall
in his head. It was kind of creepy to me, but he was nice to me...at first.
My brother and I ran behind them. We were out of breath
by the time we reached my mother. Christopher looked down and laughed at us. "You two always get here late." Every day the fruit truck came my
brother and I would never get to ask for what we wanted, but that day was different. That day Christopher was nice, and asked my brother and I what we wanted. I was still
nearly out of breath, but managed to tell him I wanted the watermelon. Christopher reached in his pocket and handed the guy on the truck the money. When we got back to the house my mother
cut the watermelon in half. She gave me a plate and told me to sit out on the steps to eat it. Rasheed sat beside me eating
the grapes he got. My mother and Christopher sat on the couch across
from the doorway. I would glance back at them when I heard my mother and him laughing. Even as my hands and face got sticky and my outfit stained, everything felt perfect. Suddenly, I noticed
I didn’t hear my mother’s voice any more. I looked back and my mother and Christopher were standing in front of the sofa. He kissed her on her cheek and told her he was going to
take a nap. She nodded as she leaned closer to welcome his kiss. She stood and watched as he walked up the stairs, and
dissapeared from sight. After which she came outside and told Rasheed and I she would be back.
A short time after my mother left Christopher came back down stairs. He stood in the doorway for a moment then slowly stepped
down on the top step. I could feel him leaning against the railing and when I looked up he looked down at me and smiled. I
smiled back silently thanking him for the watermelon. Just as I was finishing my watermelon he told me that he needed me to
help him upstairs. I ran to the kitchen to throw away the peel and hurried back over to him. I walked behind him as he lead
the way up the stairs, and stood still when he stopped suddenly in front of me. He turned and looked down at me no longer
with the smile he gave me outside. His eyes looked dark and the feelings inside of me began to mirror that darkness. I
continued to follow him once he began to move. Once we were inside the room and he shut and locked the door, the slightly
uncomfortable feeling began to grow. I watched him as he slowly walked passed me to the window and drew the drapes. As the
room grew darker the uncomfortable feeling I had grew darker as well. He walked back over to me and then around me.
Each of his steps seemed to be with exact percision. It was almost like a dance. As he circled me he told me the game we were
going to play was called Chase The Rabbit. I stood still and each moment I grew more and more afraid. Finally, he stopped
in back of me, I could feel myself getting sick with fear. I watched the floor to see his feet so I would know once he began
to move again. I starred at his feet until my vision became blurred. There was a creepy silence in the room that was broken
by the sound of his belt buckle, and the zipper to his slacks. My body began to tremble as I gasped in fear. I couldn't
move my eyes from his feet and hoped this terrible feeling I had would go away along with the sight of him. My racing thought
were interrupted when I saw his slacks fall to his ankles. He
moved closer to me and I could smell his scent, and feel his presence all around me. He continued moving closer until I felt
a poking in my back. I was sure I was going to fall any minute. A part of me felt like it was a bad dream and I kept telling myself it was going to end any minute, but it didn’t.
He began moving his body back and forth, swaying from side to side. I felt so out of place and I didn’t know what to
do, so I did what he told me to do. He rested one hand on my shoulder and I could feel my skin scale up. He told me to kneel
down in front of the bed. I almost collapsed when I tried to kneel down. He never moved his hand off my shoulder. His very
thin fingers were sweaty and trembled just as much as I was now.
While I tried to find a way to make myself comfortable
he leaned closer to me and said, “I know you want this.” He rested his other hand on my shoulder this time using
a little force and whispered to me, “bend over.” I tried to think about the stains on the sheet instead of him.
I tried to think about my mother, my uncle, or even Rose, but nothing worked. I could feel his body against mine. Slowly he
began rubbing my rear end and moaning. When he stopped he moved his hands down to my legs. He forced his hand in between my
legs and pryed them open. I shut my eyes tightly and clinched my fist
telling myself this wasn’t real. He continued to roll his fingers over my closed vagina moving them back and forth.
I could feel his body swaying to the rhythm of his fingers. He continued for a moment and then took his hand away. I
thought it was over, but I was wrong. I felt him moving closer to me. The poking I once felt on my back was gone. I wasn't
sure if I should feel relieved or afraid when he shoved his penis in between my legs. He used his hands to guide
it up towards my vagina.. My mind went blank, everything went black. When my eyes met the light again I could feel his
body moving back and forth in a slow motion and gradually picking up speed. He moaned out loud as he fluctuated his body against
mine. Suddenly, I felt his body hesitate and I noticed his breathing was changing. I wanted to turn around to see what
was happening, but my body seemed as if it was laying in concrete. Every time I felt him come closer to me it felt nasty
and so did I. Just as I thought I was going to vomit his body began to jerk uncontrollable. His breathing was extremely labored
and tiny beads of sweat drip from his head. His grip on my shoulders became painful as he tightened his hands. The more he
moved the more his body jerked. I was nervous, afraid, yet angry. I hoped that he was dying, but instead he was getting ready
to ejaculate. Suddenly there was warm, wet, slimy fluid running down my legs. My throat begin to hurt as I forced myself not
to vomit. His head rested on my shoulder when my brother knocked on the door and asked if he could come in. Christopher
raised his head enough to whisper to me, "tell him you'll be right out."
In as short as 45 minutes that day he altered so much of
me. He altered the essence of me. He tampered with who I was and distorted my image of who I could become. He maliciously
made the effort to strip me of my soul, and dampen my spirit. He stole from my deep, beautiful, abyss of innocence. He
held my choices hostage and demanded I second guess my right to chose, and lack the confidence I should have in my choices.
He trespassed on the property of emotions that were still in development and stunted their growth. He left me to be
a person I had to get to know, but didn’t want to and didn't know how.
Allow me to formally introduce myself, my name is Nicole
and this is my story...
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*Never allow yourself to allow anyone make you limit what you can do!
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Emotions
Who would have thought this could happen in so little time. Who would have thought I could like
you….want you…need you …crave you…love you in such little time. Who would have thought my mind would
be consumed by you and the essence of you. Who would have thought I could love you so much that my heart would skip a beat……Who
would have thought the thought of not being able to speak to you, touch you, see you would make me weep. Who would have thought
my heart would break as each second turned into minutes. Who would have thought food would taste like nothing without you
as my digestion. You make me real, you make me have meaning. The sound of your voice commands me. Your voice commands my soul,
it tickles my fibers and saturates my being. Just your voice. My body won’t function with out you. I love you just isn’t
enough.... I celebrate you would never do.... I crave you isn’t right.... I close my eyes, and see you would be wrong....
You control my thoughts and when you not there. Your love commands me, every reaction and movement every emotion is yours.
My world is not round but you.... My life is not complete, but you.... My soul is not deep, but you.... My spirit does not
smile, but you.... My mind does not comprehend, but you.... My body is not me, but you.... You make me. I love you, I love
you, I love you. Scrambled is my thoughts. Out of control is my emotions. I love you, I love you, I LOVE YOU. My heart aches
for you it dies for you slowly. My addiction.... I love you and I can’t say it, I love you and I can’t feel it,
I love you but I can’t. My body trembling for you, it quakes with you it shivers around you. I miss you, you you you
you I need you. Please…I couldn’t take it.. Not hearing your soft voice, not feeling your aura fly about
me. Not feeling you with my mind not wanting you more more more more I love you and I can’t understand it, I love you
and I need it, I love you. The sound of your laugh makes me heart pound the sound of you makes me real. I count my moments
with you and dread....
My feelings for you holds me captive and twirls me around. My love for you drains me and makes me weak, I can’t stand,
I can’t see, and I can’t be me with out you. You have done something I can’t grasp. My stomach aches and
its not like they say. My butterflies hurt and I want more. I feel like I am in trouble, and I know that I am. I have to maintain
this and it freshness. There you are again in me controlling me taking me I’m dizzy now. I would ask what have you done
to me, but I already know. You have done the impossible . You have made me understand the key to life, it secrets and all
it holds. You have taken me to the core and I can say I know it is not hot. I see colors and you are them.... I see life and
you are it.... I see how love is made and you are making it. You’ve got me and I beg you not to let go. You’ve
got me and I would die if you didn’t know.
My head is light and I know I am falling. I am falling down and you have to be there. My head is light but you make me
heavy. My soul cries out to you. Each life of mine you are there.... Each world of mine you hold. How did you get here I would
ask but I already know how did you get me here is what is unknown. Just your voice and I can’t sleep, I can’t
eat and feel all that you are. It feels so good, but I’m in pain. My love hurts it holds on to tight and squeezes tighter.
Your tone your pitch every melody of your voice finds me. They seek me out and surround me. They bring me to my knees and
humble me. I’m real now longer than forever. I’m true now.
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