Hermosa & the Bi☥ch

It was you whom I recall 1st telling me that, " There's a lot of truth in jest. " So I find it ironic that it is you who was so easily angered because I spoke on the flaw in your little joke. See today I woke up literally minutes before I was to be at work but before I ran out the door, I thought to take out meat for dinner. 2 different meats because we have different diets ( since it is EYE who needs to be " healthier " ). After my shift, I had car trouble. I called you. You came, from home where you slept in after a long day of relaxing, and you saved the day. Then you let it be known you were aggravated by having to do so. But aren't you the hero? Oh I forgot, I'm no damsel. I'm my own heroine. I'm expected to be understanding & even wait up for you while you save the real damsels. Noticed about 10 mins from home you were no longer trailing me. I got home from work about 30 mins later than usual.  Got a text 20 mins later that read &qu

I just want to break down and cry Have you hold me as tears fall uncontrollably But I can't. Because truthfully you're with her. You always have time for her. Even when it's my time, she's on ur mind. She's all that you desire But I'm supposed to believe you when you tell me you l-ve me? I'm always on the verge of tears There's so much pain in my eyes,  you don't see. Because you long since stop looking at me. I find comfort in the warmth of alcohol Amazed me how it easily it goes down now                 All hours of the day you find a way to get away from me Like I suffocate YOU What about those times you wanted me with you? When I rushed to leave where I was to be where you were? Now I could go missing and you wouldn't know unless someone else told you All I want is for your actions to match your words For your body heat to melt the ice around my heart Or for you to let me go 

A few yrs ago whilst in the midst of some catty femle beef I looked up BIPOLAR becuz of how it was 'joked' about being had. When I found out it was a depression, I decided to stop saying "I'm bipolar" not wanting to accept/speak depression on myself/others. I refer to ppl's flip flop personality as 'sour patch kid' now instead. I know what it's like to be depressed. I have had many a suicide thoughts. I once drank alcohol & took the few pills I had at my disposal hoping to die. I cope by holding on to a fantasy that I will see my baby bro in heaven 1 day, long as I don't die from suicide. I occasionally drink/smoke/take medicines. I create fantasies in my head where things are different, I am happier. I don't dwell on my 'problems' nor do I talk about them. I have sex. I don't want counseling anymore. It was a time I did, and no one took me seriously. I have survived this long, this way. I'm actually sharing this

I hate that I'm homeless, I mean a house IS NOT a home, especially not this one. I hate how little this house is, there's no where for ME to put MY stuff. I have boxed up essentials & unnecessary stuff unpacked. I am not at liberty to paint or nail a hole in the wall. I can't buy a shelf or a dresser. I am depressed. I NEED to escape. Creatively. Freely. Uniquely.

There's no holiday cheer in our home. It never is. Any cheer truthfully, unless I supply it. I'm tired thou. Overworked & underappreciated. It's in my face. It's in every single, "Don't worry about it." I mutter. But it's unnoticed. Ignored. Not a priority. I'm trying to b the best friend/lover/partner/parent/person possible. Breaking my spirit. Stressing. I'm drained. But I must paint on a smile. Say that I'm fine... wonder if I'd b missed when I'm gone???

Let’s get this clear… I’m not the woman that he complains about. I’m not that woman in which he bad mouths. I’m the woman whom he doubts. The one when he’s in jam, bails him out. When he’s struggling, helps him out. The one he leaves to go to others and lie about. Let him tell it, he’s been single for the past several years. I’m just his best friend whom he holds quite dear. I think he figures when his life becomes that of his dreams, he’ll find someone better than me. But now while he’s still on his way, I’m best to have in his pocket, his ace in the hold, isn’t that what they say? But that woman who doesn’t know how to treat a man, he always speaks of, he once claimed as his wife, so I’m guessing they were madly in love. He hasn’t moved on from her, I believe no one compares. Not to her cooking, cleaning, or fashionable flair. She must have set a standard so high, because since her he hasn’t had a romantic life. Being such a close friend, I’ve witnessed him since. My