Category Archives: Woman’s War

She’s Love’s Fool and She Knows It

 

Sometimes I play the fool, but I still know the truth deep inside, so it’s alright. Right? But this time it’s as dangerous as a crook in the night. In fact, it’s even more wrong to think that you yourself are right. I’m blinding myself, if I keep it up I might lose my own sight. I can tell something ain’t right, it’s not just a vibe, because when I was up against myself, I chose your side. But why? I’ve done this a thousand times and I never saw the wrong, it never disturbed my pride. Until now, that I see all I’ve kept bottled inside, and the resentment that has grown from the times you shut me down when I spoke my mind. Why is it that you have more power over my mind than I have over mine? How come you can walk in and change my preference just by influence over time? Why are you so damn great to me that I’ve become an idiot to the simple things? How could you call it love when you show no remorse for making me cry, you didn’t even care to make sure I was alright. But trust me, beloved lover, one day you’ll get yours and likewise I’ll get mine. It may take months or years to claim that prize, but I’ll be fine. How do I love you yet have a burning desire to see something unclaimed about you just diminish slowly over time. One day I’ll grow the nerve to walk away and let you reap what you deserve. I’ll wash away every piece of you that remains and I’ll remember you most for your selfish ways. One day all of this crooked love and shattered faith will change, and once I set your fake ass love to flames, maybe then I’ll be okay.

Advertisements
Tagged , ,

Bottom of His Love

If you’ve never prayed your hardest, you’ll do it when hit this damn near fatal crash in the road. You’ll need the insight of something bigger than yourself because you won’t know for certain which way to go. They all want to stay here for comfort but flee for freedom from a broken dream at the same time. We all get numb to the pain of heartbreak after the same tears have been cried. Looking back, he lied and she lied, and the relationship was built on bitter truths and pretty false promises. The bond wasn’t broken; the problem was that it was never built strong enough in the first place, it was never truly solid. And at the second trace, she replayed everything in her head. She stayed in for three days and cried herself to sleep a hundred times in her bed. She’ll give up on everything that includes you and light this fairytale on fire because it wasn’t enough to burn through your head; it only got her too caught up. She sits in silence as there is madness in her head, and just when she thought the tears had ceased, she fell  to her knees and they rained harder instead. Her music doesn’t do her any good at this phase of writing the wrongs, she doesn’t even have the courage to listen to a single r&b song.  She’s such a good girl but the pain works like thorns and she says, “I’d rather be bad.” Scrolling down her music, give me something harsh, I want cruelty, something to match these scars. She plays rock and some sick rap, some raunchy shit, and with love’s death in her head she fades back to black with dread. She could trade crack rock for love, it would be the same thing, bring the same pain, fuck you up in the same damn way. She looked at the ground, staring just to find strength in her soul and honesty in her intentions, all she found was a thousand things she forgot to mention. She pushed herself away from him and in this black hole she got shoved. And she hopes for the sake of fairness, one day he too hits the bottom of his love.

Tagged , , , , ,

I wrote this for a beloved friend of mine, her situation taught me just as much as my own did. I struggled with whether or not I should share such a private and personal letter but I just think a lot of other lovers share the same emotions, so please, learn from her heart’s story.

There have been times when she didn’t know her own strength, and at times she couldn’t even see the limits she placed on herself. There were days when she woke up confident, knowing that her smile would genuinely last. In those very days, she had her ultimate breakdowns and truly came face to face with her hearts reality. She was frail for love, for the past, especially weak for a feeling that was gone but the memory alone had her bound into hope. She knew she had it in her to leave a love that she wanted so bad to keep, but she loved him and the though t of him too much to do it.

She needed strength beyond herself; she needed God to drag the true strength of a woman out of her, because she alone didn’t want to go. She wanted to stay and let love run its course,but she was getting restless with playing forever the fool. Even in the midst of every lie, at the end of the day she wanted to try to make it work. She knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she wasn’t supposed to stay in that relationship, she knew an ending was approaching. It’s still a mystery and divine wonder how she knew it, but she simply felt it; growing inside of her like a cancer poisoning her high hopes with depressing truths of the reality she lived in. Above all the other emotions and mixed desires, she was becoming well aware of her worth.

When that day of courage and will came, she ran with it and left the love that built her, a love that shaped her in good ways and bad, most of all it was a love that gave her hope. She knew that she was trapped in a plea, a craving for more than the love he would give, but held by a promise from him, for better. She believed that a love like that could endure and last. There came time when that love, that passion and friendship was no longer good for her, somehow something cruel had crept in and remained  lying in between them, slowly putting them in a battle against each other. He broke her heart and even in the days that she stayed the love was being slowly ruined, like a rotting fruit that once would taste so sweet, the effect couldn’t be undone.  There came a turning point in which all that built her began to break her down, and she watched herself sink lower and lower into a weakness for love, but even in those moments she knew she would eventually see the day of letting go.  It was love, but not a love worth standing by, she was alone in love and eventually she was the only one fighting for it. That’s when it was enough. They began having repeated nights of silence and empty conversations. She needed him to beg her to stay; she needed him to change her mind, and even if it was fooling her, she needed that; she wanted him to give her a reason so she wouldn’t have to walk away and end a relationship that she bet her heart on. When the silence sunk in and she found herself empty of all the things she needed so badly, she knew it was over.

Although she stayed physically, she knew deep inside that emotionally he was drifting; she was lost in awe of how they reached the point of love to where her love was no longer enough to keep this man at home and in her arms. He was doing what he wanted regardless of how good he had it at home. She grew and she learned that unless she stood up, change wasn’t coming, and no matter how bad it got, he would stay in the relationship; she couldn’t depend on him to walk away. He wasn’t loving in the way he should, and she was loving in ways she shouldn’t, even to a man who meant the world to her, and she claimed as her hero, even to him she was giving too much giving pieces that were undeserved. She went through phases unheard of, ones that an untarnished heart couldn’t imagine. She took steps forth, just be drug back to phase one, but even with that, time began to heal her, and with every day, even in her rivers of tears, she became stronger and she grew inspired and determined to love herself above love, itself.

The Essence of a Broken Heart

Tagged , , , , , , , ,

Although she is nothing like you or I or even the next girl, her story could very well feature the same villains…that woman may be the invisible beauty that fights these battles too.

I believe on average one out of every five women will go through hell and back by the age of twenty seven without a hint of notification to closest people surrounding her. I’ve been blessed to have intellectual encounters with a wide variety of women. Some have been lovers, some have had a hate for love, some were teachers others could never be taught, every one of them have been so different from the next. Unfortunately the only single line they all walked on was that of abuse. They have all battled with respect from men physical and mental, emotional as well as sexual abuse. These encounters came from the hands of boyfriends, coworkers, professionals, fathers, strangers, even family friends. These women have been mocked, slammed, punched, left to die, and punished for their dignity.

Some women choose to go about their relations only involving themselves when they are the dominant ones in the relationship, only because the last time she let a man be in control, she ended up with a fist in her face and caught up with the man she swore she knew well enough. Some of these women have been raped until the scars can’t be disguised, beaten bad enough to convince themselves life is better off if they cover it up and never tell a soul. People have the nerve to wonder why so many women are bougie, why they seem to constantly turn their nose up at men, some even turn their nose up at other women due to the involvement they’ve seen women play in abuse on other women. Many men are clueless to this, they have no idea that the attitude has less to do with material things and more to do with protection, this is one of many ways that women try to shield themselves from dangerous characters they’ve met in the past. I’ve heard women say they feel life would be easier if they took on the role as a hoe, one woman in particular has told me, ” I hear these bastards won’t even fight you if you don’t put up one.” That same middle aged woman went on to say, “I’ll swallow my pride and give it up if it spares me getting my ass whooped.” If you saw this captivating woman, you would never imagine that those were her true thoughts.

So many women fear that lustful gaze of men, only because she’s seen that gaze before. She recalls the black deep alleys that the source of that gaze pushed her into, she recalls quickly jetting back to a pathway that had vanished so quickly, only to be twisted back around into the controlling grasp of a predator. Most of all she remembers that the screams were never heard, she remembers realizing that protection from the crime at that point was out of the question. These women are never fully able to forget the feeling of numbness, and as darkness faded and she laid lifeless seeing the skies shut down before her, this is when she realized that regardless of age, her youthful, innocent spirit will never again breathe the breaths of simplicity, and know that carefree soul as she once did, once a life is corrupted by crime it’s never truly the same.

Now her life is walked on guard, constantly. She doesn’t leave her home without protection, even inside of her home, she now laces it with weapons, ready to be brought out of the dark because she feels, “How else am I going to be guaranteed security?”—these women live under a vow to NEVER go again without protection.

Essence recently published an article discussing the current case of Nafissatou Diallo, whom has come to the public with rape allegations against the high profile Dominique Strauss-Kahn (former Head of International Monetary Fund). Essence went on to release a statistic that came from current studies saying that one in every four black women will be raped in her lifetime, and 7% of black women will report the crime, the average in other races came to 42% of sexual assaults reported. Im not sure why as a society of women we don’t confide in anyone about these encounters. Some women used to and eventually gave it up, some still do. Many women come to feel, at least for herself, that no one on this earth is promised to protect her, it’s her own battle. After a while some women feel that they’ve fought the battles too hard, and fought to gain her dignity back too hard to be humiliated by reaping sympathy from crying out a tragedy to someone. In circumstances like these, for this woman, sympathy can viewed as a pathetic and weak emotion, which in understanding does nothing for a woman who has walked these retched roads.

So you really want to make a difference to a woman who has told you of the disrespect she gets from men? (don’t be foolish enough to assume that the disrespect is all she knows, majority of the time, that’s all she feels comfortable with exposing.) As you are together, wherever it may be, PROTECT her, be attentive of her surroundings, of course without being controlling, GUARD her with your presence. Give her at least the insight that a hero beyond herself may possibly exist. So yes, I agree women are sometimes guarded, bougie, and highly emotional creatures, as anyone who has walked these roads would be. It’s this woman still having herself at the end of every day that gives her the pride and will to exhale and truly love and embrace herself completely. After being dragged through hell, and occasionally passing by it’s alleys on earth, these women begin to respect themselves for the battles they’ve fought, admire and appreciate every other woman as well regardless of race, religion, size, sexual orientation ect. knowing that although she is nothing like you or I or even the next girl, her story could very well feature the same villains…that woman may be the invisible beauty that fights these battles too.

Woman’s War

Tagged , , , , ,
%d bloggers like this: