Her eyes were blood shot red, her teeth were almost yellow, she spent all of her money and it seemed and that she lost all of her dreams.She rode the subway and ate potato chips on the way home.She carried a purple handbag it was a coach to be exact,she never came to his basketball games, and never slept at home.He cleaned the house in high hopes she would be a mom for once but she, never listened, she wanted sex, she loved drugs and rock and roll.The purple hand bag was far from plastic it was real leather although she wore enough makeup to look like a Barbie, her heart was plastic.She hates dinner at eight and always partied late.She was the lady with the purple hand bag;She was broken in some way, but;tried to be strong.The worst part was already over,no one saw her tears they only saw her drunk.No one saw her angry because she was always high.Her handbag was her home;and her old home was broken, he ran away from her.She find her laughter with echoes and no one cares anymore, she lost someone dear although she still had her friends her man she lost some she loved, someone she could of raised but it was too late.He found a new home with friend and new a parent, but he was a misfit a nomad until then.So their she was the lady alone with her purple hand bag holding it close to keep the guilt away.
“Never allow someone to be your priority while allowing yourself to be their option.”
― Mark Twain
“The heart was made to be broken.”
― Oscar Wilde
A Pugnacious Affair
We fight for many things and sometimes we fight without realizing we have already lost or won.My supremacy is not the winning a man’s heart anymore, I want love but its more about winning myself over; its that way for just about every human being.I want love letters in a tiny wooden box, I desire merriment on the strangest of days.But love can be hostile and feelings can be tainted, we can be so perplexing so, foolish in the arms of strangers, I’m really just a damsel here locked away is his mind games.His unfathomable outtakes make me quiver not in pleasure but, in frustration.The eyes of a lonely man can take us many places, but the eyes of a loving man can lead us home, home is where our heart is, home is where it counts, and every slide and sinister smile is just a apart of the journey.The tiny things matter, the biggest things shame us, and well, my beauty may have cursed and my charm may have eulogized me but; it has not killed me yet.I’m sort of drowning in my temporary conviction, my sleepiness sin, my worrisome womb I can’t take back what we began. So I fight for something more than me I maybe fighting for a blasphemer., a embryo.
Sleepless night, and calling friends ,”oh I was just checking on him” the monster she feared as a child, that boogie man can grow up to be that buzzing bee inside of her head.Her biggest baddest Goliath of all time was that monster, that insecurity keeping her from sleeping sense she was five.It’s hounding her it’s chasing her sweetest dreams away and she has to use a broom to push him out.The catastrophic happening was all in her head the battle she is facing is only her imagination.She remembers the last time she cried by her mother’s door but now it’s it time to be a big girl, It times to be strong.The Trogan horse has been broken, and she should never let him into her walls again. The monster under her bed was never her friend he is a enemy a fake impostor for the reckless youth.
“I have noticed that even those who assert that everything is predestined and that we can change nothing about it still look both ways before they cross the street”
― Stephen Hawking
“Every time I read to her, it was like I was courting her, because sometimes, just sometimes, she would fall in love with me again, just like she had a long time ago. And that’s the most wonderful feeling in the world. How many people are ever given that chance? To have someone you love fall in love with you over and over?”
― Nicholas Sparks,
by Lakira Mitchum
Inception,life can feel like an odd inception or maybe an enigma; sometimes thick massive amounts of smog and cloudy dust comes our way and we become lost, stuck in time and just bedazzled by the by gases and stars these galaxies offers us.Our future is not not always seen in the stars, but I have that occasional visions and light in dark tunnels.I maybe pushing against the universe, I’m having am belligerent dispute with myself about my future.I know nothing happens for no reason I know although it seems a bit spontaneous my life seems a bit challenging I have to say I have the feeling all the chaos become a beautiful moment to me sometimes.That’s the art of a misfit, the challenge of stranger tides.My life determined by God, sin or no sin everything seems to be so purposely done its incredible but, karma is real.
By, Lakira Mitchum
He stands about 6,1 or 5,9 he’s fairly handsome; he reminds me of those boys from California.He told me he has no time for bullshit, or women and he chooses to be a friend a person I am learning to understand.He’s not bad in bed, he’s a marine, a regular average Joe that just wants to be a independent somebody, I realize this is exactly what I learned from men; is that community just happens by coincidence,he did not plan his relationship with me.He actually doesn’t like being alone but, he likes to be for himself,all for himself I can’t blame him I look up to him in some way; I wish I could be more selfish like that. So I am in some way mimicking him in my pursuit for success.Maybe in adulthood their is no such thing as friendship and all of us forget what it felt like to hold someone dear.My generation is hard to compete with they don’t care about humanity they just live.Is He has tanned skin and blues eyes as tempting as the warm seas, his hair is usually messy and not well kept, but his haircut is always attractive in some way.He is a Typical American man, he told me he wanted to hide his southern accent he wants to be a city boy, but I think he can’t help but to be himself.I am so funny about guys, I am usually good at running away from men and dating those strange exciting guys that pick me up and have cheap conversation with me.Love never came easy,I’m not in love with him, I don’t want to be, I literally just met him sort of.He’s a very secretive person, he respects himself in some way, I adapted to his attitude, he just wants to have fun,I just want to have friends but overall I can say he is what taught me and who taught me; maybe I care too much.Or maybe I just care about the wrong people either way it goes I’m learning both good and bad from him and maybe one day. I’ll achieve this goal, this feeling of being so full of complacently contentment with myself and goals.Love is never easy, men are sometimes actually accepting of me and I really actually want to love myself and let go of the desire to have someone to be friends with.I want to see where things go with this individual but, really I will just remember him as a memory from my past.He’s sort of nice, he is genuine to me for some reason, he does do me favors, occasionally but, really realistically I’m okay with moving on when he is ready.He does have a cute way of smiling at my dumb comments,and I’ll admit I am beginning to like him,although I think he is shy. He reminds me to work hard and focus on me and it’ll pay off in the end,I only hope for the best for him and as for me,I’m really am really wanting people to see my story, my growth in young adult hood, trying to figure out my own do’s and don’ts and dreams and ideas, my best and my least finest moment in life, here I am world this is me.
To be continued:
The feeling of falling has come upon me once again,its so strange I don’t know what will happen between us.But there he was, it was different than what I have ever done and my heart was pounding with excitement.I can not say it was love, I hope one day it will be, but my insides churned with his.Fear was not entirely a feeling I had it was more like a weird ounce of faith in romance.I made him smile, and I made myself smile, so what am I to do now. His southern yet city boy charm sort of grasp my girly attention, what will happen next?Oh Gosh I’m sort of gushing over him I have so much to learn about this stranger.I think it may have been love.