Dwindling away like time and so does my feelings they dissolve like salt that leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. Like mush underneath my feet.The  weight over my head it shoves me around like a broken crown all of my love kisses me goodbye and worthless shoves itself towards me again, like a large penis , degrading my very being and cutting me with ties I can not resolve, how do I seek the the man that cut away my happiness,My heart is bleeding it’s wicked sins, and everything seems so dark and looming with the eyes of the devil staring me, red as the horns of Satan, I sat alone and  cried because I have nightmares, voices, screaming in my head telling me I’m worthless, my voices screeching in hell without my body, with a soul, without itself soaking in my own blood.

They call that sanity, the sensitive parts of  me that holds on tightly to my soul until I feel a sickening twist of anxiety, I was falling apart in the place of sadness, I collect dust on God’s shelf with a list of petty accusations and frustrations, I know I was born as an enfeebled yet hated soul, a pathetic lot to man.I swallowed the pill to forget how the devil laughs at me, how God mashed me into a mixed creature, A disgusted anachronistic fool, looking for love, used up and washed apart…When No one cares about your decisions, you are broken. Keep my bloody heart Oh God, Keep, my bloody heart…


King of hell, shrine of darkness tore me apart, and kicked me in my room while I cried and asked  who am I?


He was my weakness



By,Lakira Sharice Mitchum

Just one thought…

in all the beatings and insults, all the meaningless chores.

all the abuse, and all of the hatred.

Just one image, if he was my killer I would do my best to cry, He was my sanity and I lost it ,I was the fool that loved him more than the sensations that felt like a pill, he was my drug , my reasoning , I found the most beautiful thing in my once heard salvation.its the Lakira syndrome my sickness.  suicide it was him Christ.  If I lost him I would rather die worst than he did, cursing my self and he was who i only needed, he was my identity  I was relying  in him my love for him is more money or songs that would be my life.I’m ashamed to say  I was always less;never  her while I write and although little read my thoughts .In all of my secular ways he was my only light, my only king my only peace. life hit me where it hurts and he was my only thought in every song, and no one will know why I disappeared.with no love,with no one , no mind no hope my future only sees blood and with happiness,  he is my everything my all.he was never forgotten  I denied him,  Take me instead, no man will ever know  how I loved him. I lost my mind, He will never know. How sick I’ve become  with the deep passion I would gone for you… you have no idea how much i love you, more than I love myself He was my hero, because of who he is ,not because he died , I would rather die in his place, oh, Israel don’t you  see I’m in love with your king , son of David, son of Moses and Abraham i lost my sanity in my christian heart he is my issue, I saw more than a solvent or solution, I felt worthless, and my worth could not save this planet, and when i am trash I only sinned in their eyes.

He was my only reason, He was

who was my first love, no man knew me or my name.

La beauté des hommes

By,Lakira Mitchum

part 1

Presenting my reasoning for dumbing my ex boyfriend. .and dealing with self discovery


While gazing upon a magazine cover I find myself dazed in stupidity over something I can’t conceived for myself that is my desire for a man’s affection, the stupid idea of crazy love, I for one have taken a deeper observation into idolizing the unforgettable  mark’s and Mathew’s of the cult we women call Hollywood. First there is real life and oh “Fuck, me” love is abusive and hard to find. Looking at handsome men is like looking for the perfect bowl of spaghetti, just so can find out that you’re not beautiful enough to even speak to them, it makes you feel crazy when you realize you only value the opinions of Gaston and prince charming. Let’s talk about masculine beauty, men ,men fucking men, the great valleys of soothing screaming and head banging down the road of my memories, worshipping men will ruin me it’ll be the death of me. I settle upon the idea of the beauty of a man that is kind but, finally I have freedom I finally conjured why women learn to hate men in puberty because, even the nicest of kings, can become a fucking nightmare in the end which is why its for a girl like me to fear men and never approach them and really, confidence comes the most when we are alone.Men learn to love only a certain kind of person, they were created to be hard, and not vulnerable as the tender girl. Its seems normal for girls to hate boys but, respect them only because of how different they are from us, they have a lot to offer to us, like all the criticism you could ever need ever, or making a family. lets be honest boys are intimidating all boys are, what they say and do, does matter from my memories, of my childhood I was little ugly bitch with terrible friends and no hair. I’ll be honest I’m ugly and I know it, or I feel ugly or I’ll look at my boyfriend and think why in God’s name are you with me? I actually accept being ugly or pretty , I don’t like judging myself actually like uhhhh the actress that played “ugly Betty” to me she looked pretty normal, yet  nerdy. I’m okay with this  thought in my mind, I don’t cry about it at all I just accept that I’m an ugly woman that once liked the kind of men that would never give me the time of day, feeling ugly is not why I pursue writing more than men, its more about not caring about the way I look just sometimes I don’t like the idea of attracting a lot of people it’s a form of humility that I seek for myself, its like my own reasoning for modesty I don’t want to get hurt. I was once a great girlfriend in my mind that literally worshipped my boyfriend and wanted his parents to always like me, Do you know how  agonizing that is, attempting to become a wife, A God fucking Wife and mother! it’s hard. I almost never want to date again I almost never want to fall in love again  and when you become a wife you become a woman that obligated constantly churn the options of a man that could easily destroy you and really I hate the idea of marriage, attraction, love and sex so I bailed on him and dumbed him, I was not ready, he was 9 years older than me its take a lot of guts brainwashing and time to get woman to marry a man, and go through extreme pain to push a baby  out for them and be ready in time for a new one. I can say I am terrified of love, I am afraid of men and because of rape and I don’t need sex at all it hurts too much.

I can live without that for the rest of my life, I know I’m young but I think I want to commit to being single for the rest of my life. I have met so many wonderful single women that seem insensitive but really they have been hurt, and I think its okay to say I’m afraid of marriage, I’m afraid to let someone control me, to let that man in my life.

My emotions are like an ocean shore pushing an pulling away at my own mind numbing me and turning me into a beach worth loving once more. I learning to love myself, an sense I was five it was hard to see how smart I came to be. without a lover I’m learning that I could be special to me, because of who I am.


I have a sad perspective of love and understanding, and I express I wasn’t always like this and I have the feeling of so much worthlessness I have myself writing articles about men I’ll never marry, or keep or touch, or lick , and well I admit “I’m a creep”. I have to admit liking men is not easy, its when I forget about them and find that little mouse I call myself scurrying in my mind squeaky to it’s predator “don’t fuck with me homes!”  I see I’m a slave girl making my own puppet show entertaining the masses that’ll never like me if I payed them to . I really do feel like an unlucky Cinderella so let’s go back shall we,

All in all really I can say I love Tom Hiddleson simply because he is an human that loves humans. .”

“I believe the conversations we would have if I met him would consist of medical exams, humanitarian concerns and world issues. He has millions of fans and many awards but, in reality what he does for others is what matters the most to me, he brings hope to humanity, he just maybe homesick for heaven who knows.I believe the conversations we would have if I met him would consist of medical exams, humanitarian concerns and world issues. He has millions of fans and many awards but, in reality what he does for others is what matters the most to me, he brings hope to humanity, he just maybe homesick for heaven who knows.”- Lakira Mitchum

That was one of the most stupidest articles I have ever written…let’s be honest I have an unwanted crush, but really I’m a brilliant woman that should mind her own damn business. Back then I wrote in hopes that these people would read my pathetic attempt to be a dumbass fan girl crying behind someone’s red rope, Fuck No! get a grip Lakira! love your fucking self and love humanity with your own reasons no because baby faced men kiss African babies on T.V. This is my reasoning, as a lady I should never try to impress anyone with desire for a man to like me. That Article was a naïve  of me to write  and I had less of an kick in my head and that was the very reason why “David Wright” treats me like a dumbass, Bitch get over all these celebrities be strong, don’t quiver over men that shit ain’t good for my female ego. “Fuck love” at that time I don’t know if I was as serious about writing but, I remember Louis Lane turning down superman because when you are  passionate about something you find something in yourself you have never seen, your own reason to believe in God or Goddesses or, why to loose weight or wear make up every day. Shhhhhittttt it’s better to be professional than to be in love or lust, if we are not careful men can easily become our passion instead of us having a passion in what is more important our self respect. “RESPECT” yo!  I don’t want to love men I want to just respect them. I have  seen the ugliest of man take a girl’s affection and turn it into some sort of twisted buffet of shaming and torture, which is why ladies should never let a man determine who they are, how they feel and what they do.

Men can turn the prettiest of women into clowns like,that woman is not human; she’s a fucking dog in a cage. women that want to be loved and understood like porn stars, strippers, teenage girls, moms, grandma, fucking toddlers in tiaras  She is a slut. she is a bitch she is …. she fucking is, Mother Mary, Ruth and Esther, the sexy Sarah Palin and the  God made Hilary Clinton, the abused Mary J. Blige the Dancing Beyoncé and the Megan fox and Paris Hilton one thing they have in common they are dumb bitches to society and praise to the mighty ego of the modern man. Really they are all beautiful women that deserve to love themselves first, stop crying over him, and they, and be strong! Love yourself, Love your vagina, love your own vagina, shit masturbate and, talk about it you don’t have to be a lesbian, respect your gender and be okay with waiting, for love to find you be okay with your body.

In every perspective of our culture women are degraded no matter who they are, we are all Ann franks…forcing ourselves to be in the spotlight, in a society that only shames us. I hate entertaining men, I hate sucking up to the idea that they can us so easily hurt and shit I’ll admit I don’t want to love men anymore. I an a feminist and I am proud of it, That doesn’t make me a lesbian its makes me a rebel in a stereotyped world I hate. I hate sexism as much as I hate living only for man’s affection when I see female engineers, female football players , soccer players, boxers, even strippers can be seen as athletes. I was not born to entertain men ,I was created to mate with men, until that time comes I’m single and… now that I’ve written this I’m happy to say, I am a woman that will only respect men, and never love someone that does not deserve it.





The snake that ended it all.. part 1

By, Lakira Sharice  Mitchum

December 18th 1725

The earth was quiet and her bones shivered  when  she took a step into the cold air, she felt the need to fear over what was to come as she began runway from Edward’s grasp. Emily was a  Broken woman with stolen dreams, a sad soul to behold.He only  desired her and her alone, he watched her cry by the hot fire often at night and, only wished her well with a sigh. She was pregnant and he was the new father of her widowed family. Her pale skin was still throbbing red from the lashes and whips she received on that Sunday morning for not wearing her mother’s dress to her husband’s funeral. He Was a cruel man, he was, he taught her that   fear works more frequently  than love, he taught her death more than life and now that her family was gone, so was her hope but, there was someone to admire besides Edward ,a man she loved, he only live a mile away. She was could almost taste his skin again she was making her way to him again only to feel desperate cold and alone. “Emily!” where are you!” he beckoned, in the starry night, he only heard the wilderness around his wooden home it seems he lost Emily and his mind. Edward was a man of power with a smile that could fool any man that tries him, and often did not enjoy seeing Emily happy, if it had nothing to do with him he needed a wife to fill the void of being a fatherless man, he had many lovers but, no wife. He felt as if Emily was his best fit she was widowed gullible and quite childish and pregnant What better choice than Emily. Emily wondered aimlessly only to find the cabin of a man named “Rose” “what are you doing in the cold?” he asked, Rose was a copper skinned man with a strong persona that could heal the heart of any human being if they trusted him enough, he seemed perfect and kind he instantly knew that Emily was a woman worth protecting, so he let her into his humble home. “Hello,  again Rose she said, “You remember my name?” he replied with a smile.  I need you more than ever Edward has beaten me again and I just want to be here with you again.” You are my peace and my survival” Emily cried, to Rose as if she had nothing left but him.

To be continued…

Heart in a jar:Heartbreak

By, Lakira Mitchum


My heart was left in a jar far away from the ones I once loved.The pale lifeless heart lies in the jar on the street where he left it.Love is something we can think of as a sickness, a sad obsession something that we can never understand .The settle feeling giving up slithers on my shoulders just thinking of the dull bitter taste of the wedding bells ringing in my ears.My heart is inside a jar, my face is in a book, my eyes are in a world of disbelief in faith.We live in society that sees God as an enemy, We stopped believing in love a long time ago and forgot what it was like to enjoy a hug in the summer sun.My heart is in a jar , near the street light sitting in the cold air waiting to be loved by someone.My heart has no lover, my heart only has scars. The fear of failing has fogged my mind and the cowardliness that haunts me so.A Heart in a jar; is something ones own might must posses or they will be forgotten like my own seems to be.

The Turgidity of a lulus naturae

“Freedom is not worth having if it does not include the freedom to make mistakes.”
Mahatma Gandhi

“When you find your path, you must not be afraid. You need to have sufficient courage to make mistakes. Disappointment, defeat, and despair are the tools God uses to show us the way.”
Paulo Coelho, Brida

Identity Crises

By, Lakira Mitchum

Inroduction: The flaws in the possibilities of solarium.How our universal destiny can seem so destructive and painful, like a fallen zodiac. Prophesies can alter the beauty of the foretold spontaneous journeys, the saying the “ignorance is bliss” is something that can bless the mind and soul at least for the time being until the end.I feel stuck in some hideous nightmare that horrid feeling you get when you feel as if hope is only a cracked memory.I’m afraid a monster ate my dreams, I’m scared a happy moment only  seems to be only a ghost in the sight of a shivering spectator. Presentiment is an occasional illusion and maybe love is just a joke told by a clown at an unwanted birthday party.I for the moment disapprove of my current state and in hope and desire that things will get better.Society is my disowned friend.

I was once a saint, I was once faithful to that religious account.

“Good judgment comes from experience, and experience comes from bad judgment.”
Rita Mae Brown, Alma Mater

Fire in her heart part 1

The fatality in knowing my heart has been forgotten by the river where Christ bathed,when he died I died with him, my sins are still relevant to my personality.I have a uncertain adherence and a distasteful moan in the back of my head from the screaming and yelling I heard at my kitchen table.Childhood can become a small case of homesickness, the feeling you are seeking a deeper meaning.No man died for my mistakes because, my mistakes are what I learn from.We are created uniquely as humans to be flawed yet blessed and I hate the idea of condemnation.Fire in my heart may be the fire in hell, If I’m wrong for being a flawed human, I will never the saint the church tortured me to be. I must be myself.

We are all naturally Good, that’s how how we know that we have done wrong in the  first place.

My universal life force was not brought to be by only a bible, and a Sunday meeting and prayers do not always solve our problems, because sometimes God gives us a pain killer instead of an antidote.I was a painkiller to my parents, I was a innocent child, a moving person that man have no sincere care for. The world is a scary place and contentment is our only way to sanity,not religion that leads to unapproachable saintly hood just to be welcome into an unpredictable utopia called heaven. (Heaven is the moment worth living more than others) Life is heaven if we allow ourselves to see the universe for what it is. We don’t know what will be like, and honestly you don’t know if God really favors you, you may be a Samson,or David or a Goliath, or a Ruth or Esther a Amon or Arron. We must be at peace with ourselves.

Heaven: the religious content is not for everyone we are all meant to be damned in some way if we were really borne into sin, what is the point in being born in the first placed.My identity is in my believe that I’m am okay with being a sinner,I’m content and at peace with myself knowing I may not be perfect enough to go to heaven. I am just human and that’s all.

I’m injured by saint hood,

but, cure by hope in humanity.

I’d rather be human; because I was born as an innocent precious infant in my own eyes.

Christianity is not my cure, it was my poison my abuse; My peace was found in knowing I was already created by an intellect greater than me,that saw me good already and maybe my life was meant to be good for me. We were meant to have peace, To were already meant to love, and why believe in a God that meant for us to be cursed from seems strange to say I’d rather be punished by my own sins than be forgiven by a God that allowed me to be cursed in the first place.We may not repent for all of our sins, we may not always be genuine,and maybe blessings may not always come to those that deserve them.

Love,compassion,kindness,empathy, wisdom  among humanity can take place without religion.If we love without thinking of the possibilities of hell we will naturally be good enough to love ourselves and others.





The heart of Gold

His heart of Gold

by,Lakira Mitchum

The violent lovely sight of his eyes gazing upon me, with loud lustful feelings he sprung himself on top of me and I’m gasping for air.My heart was deformed  and broken at some point in that moment in my life but, he came and saved my  heart  from harms way.

Doomed by the thundering Gods that hated my soul and damned my very tiny heart of Gold.Heart of gold,and faded moons and spins me around in the evening stars are counting our desires.Galaxies are where we made love and here we are and universe just holds the framed photo of the moment  I gave him my heart of gold.Harmony was all it took for me to know his heart of gold.

Fabled heart desire for new love

By, Lakira Mitchum

I once thought, when I was young, when I had faith in someone else,I now find love to be something fabled, these times are hard ones, these feelings are broken, the dismembered bones crushed near the lungs of my heart. He was nonsense, I am a woman of a fabled heart, a woman that believed in lies and contradictions. The smell of romance slithering down my spine and caused me to give up on what we called kissing the doves and roses. I became a fabled heart and I  constructed the desire to love humanity, not one man as a whole. I am very much a blackened soul but, my hope is in finding harmony in mankind. I seek no romance no, sexual touch, no french personality swooping me into a charming romance. He was never a king, or God to be just a lie that saw me as property. Freedom is in loosing my desire to find acceptance by him or them but, by accepting those that are already rejected. I hate Romance,I hate Cinderella’s story, I don’t think marriage is always the best way out of loneliness. I think the innocence of a child is priceless and I lost my innocence to romance, Romance is dangerous, Romance is an obsession, romance is painful.

Romance is trust, I just wish I never waned that form of love or lust, I just desire contentment at its fullest degree.


If you were Lice.Fine Trash talk



To the distraught Ex- lovers

Crawling and slicing yourself down my skin and into my head, itching my mind like a disgusting rash,the bothersome truth, the repulsive lies that crawl from your mind are beyond me.The dishonest truth, the shameless sign of strange non realistic manhood is he only lust’s you, he hates you, he bites you on the lip on Friday nights and ask for more on Tuesday evenings. Ew, Ew their he goes starring at you, he smells like beer and bad agonizing sex, you gave him a chance.Lies are relevant to his own moral testimony, he sickens you, he is the utter stench of  bad taboo.Oh wow there he is , examining your breast like a bad fake boob job, he is the most finest man in the room, and you hate him, because you once loved him, now what ?

Love your Goddamn self.Cheat the evil stereotypes of love and lust, be modest or be picky which ever makes you feel better, be funny, be courageous. Don’t be a hit and run!Be smart.Lite that pipe, light your cigar, lite your blunt and cause the blood in his vein run quickly with self judgement.

Darling,  you’ll be fine.