Be My Heaven Series part 1

2018

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This series is about my love for Tom Hiddleson

in hope that he will notice.

Deepest eyes that can swallow a girl’s soul he can become my sanctuary , oh look at what he’s done to me, Jesus gave him those eyes, he makes fear seem less dangerous with hard hands to hold and a promise to take care of the homeless and meek. Please tell me I’m not dreaming again… Thomas tell me again and become my heaven, my calming sea my deepest sweetest dream Be my all. Only a crush only a strange desire let me in so that I may bite the fruit upon his lips.Be my heaven please take my fear of falling away, so that I will fly only into your arms and agree with cherubs that your are purely mine before God and priest below. With a voice that ruins all ideas of selfish guilt he is so sweet.

So please take me; to where you are where ever you are is my heaven my future home.

-To my dearest lover…

 

by,Lakira Mitchum

 

Song of the day

 

 

I have Been skipping out on my WordPress lately but I’m here to do it all over again Happy Halloween everyone! keep it Going so far med school is going pretty well I have a 3.0 Gpa right now! and I’m hoping to bring that up somehow over all I am excited to continue my life as myself.

Thank you, all for your support and celebrating my life and my love  for writing. I’ll post a new article soon!keep loving yourself! Never give up on your goals.6447d92c3e44558efbba126499d2a59a

-Lakira sharice Mitchum

 

Quote of the week:

“Without ethics, man has no future. This is to say, mankind without them cannot be itself. Ethics determine choices and actions and suggest difficult priorities.”

John Berger

He was my weakness

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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.

blood and insomnia

So we settle for less…

By,Lakira Mitchum

Dripping blood from my heart I held in my hand, I waited for a answer  from him,instead he killed me, he slaughtered me in sacred sin. it was hard to explain it was hard to see my scars, I was burned at a steak at his chapel I  was hanged to dry by his men, bishops and popes prayed amen and I stand alone, without understanding for myself.What did I do, where did all of my faith go, where did your silent screams go, the tingles, the ties, the desires and dreams, her poems  only lie in ashes in hell.Someone stole my story, my heart , my ideas ,my art,.Saints say they are perfect, saints say are better, saints say their blessed after they murder, who I was was only a mistake.He swallowed me whole and said, “come unto me” but, I lost my soul and my body is only a vessel for a zealous a sacred holy, saints to hurt, And I only see blood and ashes in his hands, the beauty became my chaos so I may lay in the sun rebuked and broken by the man in white, his ancient book is only a list of death threats and a guest list for fools that worship a mans distress on a broken tree, did they really know him or was my worship in vain. That makes me ask what does it mean to be human, what does it mean to be human, to having little depth with, I have no feelings, no tears I’m numb with painted lies across my forehead.stupid with the stressful desire to sin with a warm belly, and lustful heart tight with slight self hatred, I pray against the Lakira syndrome looking for artistic love, that soft petty mini skirt kind of like love, She looks for, Lakira you’re a disease so the say ;so the little bible speaks of the doll faced fool looking for friends in the chapel, the church was insensitive to her existence pathetic fool building her own temple and wrapping yourself in clothing as if she needs them.You don’t belong in the sainthood. You have no friends, you only have your demons and even they hate you. How does she deal with being suddenly a pagan view, she loved that man, that thing they said was only a lamb he was more than that  he was rush my passion , the one I dreamed of but now its questionable the skies seem to be bleak he never knew how she felt, he should never speak of it she would rather die. Thousands of years could not explain her strange religion, he will never know the way she would have protested, the saints don’t deserve the man’s death, I know I would shake in tears, your sins are;your faults she argues with herself, they will never know she wants peace, and shes afraid.He would never know he.

she is only less..than what he could be with.

A look at my past…

So looking at me was always less than what you could of had seen, but they think I’m less better, less than Good, less than awesome, instead of October I felt like September, instead Of the butterfly I felt like the fly. I was always less, less than better just almost good.

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…

He loved me first

He is

My homesickness

By,Lakira Mitchum

Love means creation.

love means time and space, light and darkness.

The universe was stirred in the blissfulness of  love God and his wife together . she and he is a lovely bind of creation.He loved me first, he held me first , and I have been so lost , looking for his heart he was with me while was whirling in my chaos. Oh how he loves me, why did I forget the embrace of God whispering in the wind chanting my name. They let of my hopes go but,he stood firm, he was my center and I was his bride and why did I forget the lovely heart of God. He reminded me who I was and he just said, “I was always his” and he saved me from myself. I’m afraid to who I am to heaven, but he told me anyway. They hated me, and shamed me , so here I am standing here and my heart is his tabernacle. He loves me, and how strange it is that I was defeated. He is my safety and I am alone without him. The Bible did not teach me God’s love he just spoke to my heart he is in my DNA. I know now in this time of desperation he is my lighthouse. With bloody  feet I wondered into his arms into the thunder and lighting, When nothing else matters but, the feeling of his breath on my shoulders I need to know I matter in this universe.

Loneliness and faith is only one segment of this journey through time.

what does it mean to be human

“The most beautiful people we have known are those who have known defeat, known suffering, known struggle, known loss, and have found their way out of the depths. These persons have an appreciation, a sensitivity, and an understanding of life that fills them with compassion, gentleness, and a deep loving concern. Beautiful people do not just happen.”
Elisabeth Kübler-Ross

What does it mean to be human?

By, Lakira Mitchum

With a tiny ounce of hope I asked, myself if I fail so many times does that make me a person, if a  woman  bleeds after rape is said and done, does that blood remind her offender she is human? Why  do   humans hate humans and why do we seem to hate being human, Why do they say we are born into sin, while babes are innocent in the eyes of others? My first step was not disgrace in my mother’s eyes back then, but why is it that my first steps in college are so shameful to see, so anxious so tedious. Why is humanity so stuck in the constant reminder of being a cursed humans? “Oh the humanity?!”In my mind, I have this occasional gospel this, sensational fundamental way of thinking that, I will feel human when I begin to feel free to smile, free to speak, free to love, free to move and free to understand myself and others. I am human because I know my blood is inestimable valuable, precious when it flows through my veins. When my DNA is seen as dangerous to others, and sensual to my peers that’s when I know I’m human. My humanity, means I was chosen by Gods, worshiped enough to be created as such. Grateful enough to know I was created by them. My humanity is my, hope for time well spent under the stars and inside the cosmos breathing and speaking with others. I feel pain, I sense worry, I am afraid of something, but there is so much passion in being human, sex has a new meaning, it has some form climax that make us feel so warm, and fuzzy inside; so secular you can taste of the wonderful vibrant and, vivacious pleasure between your toes. I am happy to say”the central nervous system is a God given gift”  we call sex physical love.

Being human is Good, and being An animal is instinctively well, animals have the freedom to live without worry of tomorrow’s social status. but without hesitation I can say it’s good to be a sinful human that lives with passion.

My humanity is beautiful yet chaotic.

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