I’m Not a Bloody Playtime Pool

Drown

Painted by Brian Kirhagis

You wanted to be let in,
into the flow of my emotions,
into the depths of my feelings.
Why do you want to leave now?
Oh!
You have your life to live now?

I asked if you could swim
and you said “yes”,
you’d do anything to get in.

Is it too cold for you now?
Is my water too dirty for you,
too contaminated for your soul?
Do your lifeguards want you out now?

Were you looking to find fishes in me,
to feed them and keep them for your use?
Are you disappointed that there are none?
Do you wish that I was more salty?
Have you found a different water?

Why don’t you talk to me?
I don’t want you out of me;
your presence satisfies me.
I am so used to you;
I don’t know what to do.

You can’t just make me trust you
and then mess up.
Cum, tears, sweat, blood, pee;
how do I separate all of you from me?

You see, this is the kind of shit that…
*whew!*
…this is the kind of stuff
that gets motherfuckers drowned.
I’m not a bloody playtime pool.

I’m a sea.

-Yemoja 

Advertisements

She Suffers: The Woman Proposed

Yesterday, you braced yourself.
With all the courage that you had,
you told them how you really felt,
and what all your affection meant.

Today, they told you that they loved you;
they’ve shown you life and it’s brand new.
They’ve come to make your dark sky blue;
there’s nothing, for them, that you wouldn’t do.

Tomorrow, you’re going to have a fight;
the things they’ll say are going to hurt you.
If you threaten to leave if they don’t change,
they’ll react in a way that you’ll find strange.
The words they’ll say will be quite true,
“I didn’t come to you first,
I didn’t want you.”

Dead Love III

They didn’t fall out of love with you.

Love itself is a paradise-like pit;
where else can anyone possibly fall into
if they fall out?

They climbed out of the love you shared
without you.

You felt their footsteps;
you just chose to ignore it,
or get used to their struggling to get out,
while convincing yourself that they were
drawing closer to you.

Perhaps, you simply watched them leave
because there was nothing you could do.
Someone was helping them get out;
a paradise-like pit had been dug,
an old, slightly-covered one,
or a new one, out of the blue,
and you never knew.

‘No Use’ is Abuse II

She used to miss him more
when they were together
than she does now.
His absence was difficult
to deal with when he was present;
it isn’t now.

Don’t Be So Trusting III

Some of those who stand beside you
may not stand with you,
especially when you need them to.
They’ll stand by and watch you,
but they won’t stand by you.

Be careful.

Human Sacrifices and Sheet

BlckMTade’s heart is broken into three pieces. It was split into two whole halves for a long time, but it was shattered last night, and there are three pieces now.

Tonight, he’ll meet a new woman, and in a few days, he’ll make passionate love to her. She’ll think he’s madly in love with her, but he wouldn’t really be, obviously. He is, and he would be, in love with someone else who has declared herself unavailable, and for a while, the new woman would become his true love’s clone. 

Maggots and contaminated blood from an untreated, rotten wound in his heart, anger- fiery anger, and sweet-bitter desire would be the new recipe for his semen, for her new meal, and she would lick and suck and swallow in delight, without a slight clue on how or under what conditions it was prepared.

The good or not so good news, depending on what side you’re on, is that he will get better. Within 6-8 months, he’ll get over the old girl, and, unfortunately, the new girl. She would not be so new anymore. He would not be as vulnerable, and the wound would be fairly healed by that time, so he would change; he would become his true self again. 

It would be time to search for a real replacement; he’ll be totally done with the “living sacrifice”. The not-so-new-anymore girl’s heart will be split into two halves when his behaviour changes, and of course, it’ll be shattered into three pieces when he announces that she is of no true use to him; she was, but not anymore. 

My Mind= Field | My Feelings= Ball

Falling in love with fire,
an obsessive, compulsive liar,
was the most exhausting thing
that I had ever done
since the very minute
that I was born.

He would say,
‘Air, you need to come on stronger
if you want to have me.”
So, I would give him more air,
and we would start a fire right there.

Then he would say,
“woah, this is too much for me;
you’re going to blow me out.
If you don’t leave me be for as long as I need,
you will go many days without.”
So, of course, I would withdraw,
until our fire was no more.
It made my soul so sore.

Extremely hot,
extremely cold.
Extremely fickle,
nothing to mold.
Extremely mean,
no heart to hold.
I never told him off;
I was never so bold.

“Us” Died

Our light became darkness.
Our love became hatred.
Our laughter became silence.
Our future became our past.
I knew “our” was dying
the day you came home with “my”.


“Our penis” became “my penis”.
“Our children” became “my children”.
“Our house” became “my house”.
“Our mother” became “my mother”.

The African Woman’s Dilemma

25555648_1538370519611644_756203203_n1. “You shouldn’t restrict a man’s sense of freedom; you have to let him explore if he chooses to. You can’t be possessive of men; they are not built that way.”

 

2. “He has been seen in hotels several times with different women. It’s such a shame that his wife can’t keep a man.” 

Too Good for Her

You tell her you don’t deserve
her when you have nothing.
Then you get something- many things;
you become the king of things.
You begin to regret the sweet nothings
you uttered when you were naked,
when your hands were empty.

Beelzebub pays you a visit.
He perches on your penis,
washes on your eyes,
and shows you beelzeboobs and beelzebutts.
Then he tells you she doesn’t deserve you.
He reminds you that she can’t spell “deserve”.

You can now see all her inadequacies,
her mistakes,
her little flaws.
The things you used to love
quickly become the things you hate,
the things you can’t stand,
the things that irritate.

Who deserves whom?
Who deserves what?
Who deserves whom?
Who deserves “what?!”
Who deserves whom?
Who deserves worth?