Childhood

I don’t remember much from my childhood,
I don’t even know what my first memories were.

But I remember small things.
Like the movement of my momma’s hands while she cooks.
Like the paper airplanes my father made.
Like the vanilla wafer and cheese snacks my parents gave me.
Like the moment my father taught me how to snap my fingers and the moment he taught me how to whistle.
Like the phrase, “It has to be perfect.”
Like the taste of leftover cake mix on an empty bowl.
Like the feeling of fresh grass and concrete on my toes.
Like the nights sleeping in my momma’s bed when father would get off late.
Like the feeling of scrapping my knees on the neighbor’s steps.

I remember big things too.
Like the punishments my parents and relatives would give me. 
Like the fantasies about running away from my family and never seeing them again.
Like the envy I had for my momma’s effortless beauty.
Like the cruel, cruel treatment of other students. 
Like the early, unwanted sexual experiences before the age of nine.
Like the feeling of a blade against my thighs skin.
Like the pain of fresh cuts against jeans.
Like the first day I started taking medicine. 
Like the nights where I would talk, cry, and beg to the moon because it was my own comfort and the only thing that would listen.

My childhood is a blur and I wish I could remember it,
But, I guess, it is a good thing that I don’t. 

The moment my dad told me he didn’t love me

The moment my dad told me he didn’t love me

Wasn’t very shocking.

It was disturbing, 

But also confirming.

Days before this happened,

I already had thoughts about how my dad didn’t love me or show me much affection and attention as a child.

He didn’t show up to any of my concerts,

He always backed out of taking me somewhere,

And he even showed up after my high school graduation.

It was bad to the point my teachers thought my mom was a single mom. 

There were good moments and memories,

But he still wasn’t really there. 

The moment my dad told me he didn’t love me

I couldn’t focus on his comments for too long.

I had to clean up my apartment,

Take care of my kittens,

Prepare dinner,

And go to work.

“That’s what grown people do.”

Mind you, 

I’m not even in my twenties. 

My dad prioritized his job before he would prioritize his wife and daughter.

My dad would make sexist remarks and told me I would never marry because I’m not submissive.

Mind you,

I am very submissive and motherly to the men I am dealing with. 

But I am not going to be submissive to my dad.

My dad never saw me as his equal

Or his daughter.

So the moment my dad told me he didn’t love me

Was an weird moment,

But comforting.

Sweet Treat

Today, I decided to try making sugar cookies.
I’ve never made them before,
But I was craving the taste.

The first bite felt surreal.
I felt like I was in a dream, 
A familiar dream.

The second bite felt refreshing.
I was transported back to that familiar dream,
With my beautiful husband and my sweet baby.

The third bite felt loving. 
My husband’s lips were on my neck
While my devilish baby played with strands of my hair.

The fourth bite felt orgasmic.
My husband’s hunger and my baby’s beauty overwhelmed me.
I felt whole again. 

The final bite felt mournful
I knew I would have to say goodbye,
So I gave my husband and my baby a heartfelt kiss.

As the sweet treat fades from my deprived tongue, 
I realize I am 
Once again 
Alone.
And it was once again, 
A near dream of a distant reality.

My Heart

My heart is too delicate and full to be abused.
It is a soft child, new to the harshness of this disgusting world.

She’s still innocent. 


I can’t stop her from loving and caring for useless men
Who can’t see her worth and potential.
Who don’t appreciate the pureness of her love.


But,
She can’t help it.
She thrives and continues to seek the man she will love
And marry until her last breath.

But, 
My heart still ponders a simple question.
What’s the point of giving my all, 
my bottomless being,
to a man who would only give me half?

Dream

I had a dream, 
A dream where I was your wife.
Where your hands were on my waist
And my spine was bent
In your favorite position.
Your hands are glued to my throat
While I try not to scream.

I had a dream,
A dream where you were comforting me.
Where your hands caressed my hair
And my eyes filled with tears
That eventually slide down my face.
Your mouth is whispering sweet sounds
While I am spiraling out of control.

I had a dream,
A dream where you were killing me.
Where your favorite blade pushed through my organs
And my body was motionless
And weak to your attack.
Your body locked over me 
While I slowly lost consciousness. 

And it was the best dream
I’ve ever had.

The Woman

As a child, 

I would prefer to spend a lot of time alone.

My parents thought it was quiet odd 

And would often check on me.

Unknown to them,

I was never alone.


The woman in the corner would be there,

Watching.

It scared me at first,

But over time,

I began to accept her presence.

She would stroke my hair

While I was asleep.

She would wipe my tears 

While I cried about a worthless boy.

She would listen to my pleas 

While I cried and begged for death.


She was there

During my loneliest moments

In youth. 

And she’s here

During my proudest moments

In adulthood.

Love Me Now

You said you didn’t love me.

You said you had no ill feelings for me,

But that you 

Didn’t 

Love 

Me.

I just couldn’t understand the idea of you not loving

me

When I’ve loved you my entire life 

And beyond.

Now, I’m stand

In your kitchen

With your beating heart

In my hands.

Your body lies still on the clean tiles. 

I give your heart a squeeze 

As I admire the sweet gift you have given me. 

I’m sorry, my love.

I just couldn’t 

Take

The

Rejection.

I hope you can love me 

Now

That I have your heart 

In my loving hands. 

Belonging

During dark nights, I ponder my existence within our world.
What am I other than a deranged scholar and writer?
Who am I if I am not deep in my sickness and delusion?
What is my purpose if I am not dangerously in love,
With my partner or my craft?

The more I analyze the corrupt society we live in,
The less I understand my position within it.

To belong into our society would be a wonderful,

Earthy,

Thing.

Closure

I just wanted answers.

I wanted to know why you would cause a soft being like myself

So much internal pain and heartbreak.

When you arrived,

You just couldn’t give me the answers I wanted.

“It was a mistake.”
“You are a beautiful and amazing woman.”
“You deserve better.”
“I told you I didn’t want anything serious.”

Only the same, lame, excuses men always give 

When they fuck up and don’t want to be accountable.

I couldn’t take it anymore.

I wanted to hurt you the same way you hurt me. 

After a struggle and a few punctures,

You were on the ground, slowly bleeding out. 

Your beautiful blue eyes were now bloodshot and filled with fear.

I couldn’t help, but to caress your face.

You flinched at my touch,

Which turned me on. 

A sinister smile creeps onto my face as I grip your face,

Making eye contact. 

I turn your head to reveal a small slit on your neck made during the fight for dominance. 

I admire the cut as I continue to get aroused by your weakness and you continue to be fearful of my next moves.

Without thinking, I lean forward and I can feel your body clench beneath mine.

I tap my tongue on the cut before putting it fully on. 

My tongue swirls around the spot before I begin sucking. 

I notice your heart is beginning to beat faster and you are no longer clenching.

I never had this craving before and I can’t help, but to continue sucking

As this is the ultimate pleasure. 

Once I am fulfilled, I removed myself from the slit and observed him.

He laid there, looking as lifeless, pathetic and useless as ever.

He was dead

And I finally got the closure I was yearning for. 

Obsession

I am obsession.

My handmade personality is based on obsession

With art,

With celebrities,

With aesthetics,

And with my own ideals of my being.

My overwhelming love is based on obsession.

Once I met someone I like,

They consume my thoughts,

My eating habits,

My sleep schedule,

My physical needs

And my emotions needs.

My high education and intelligence is based on obsession.

I only go to one of the best universities in the states 

Because I want to be the best,

I want to be seen as the best,

I want to be better than you

And myself. 

I am obsessed

And I am nothing 

Without my own obsessions.