He Said

He said that I was a beautiful affliction.
And looking at him,
I wasn't sure if I should have been
Offended or flattered
That he knew me so well.
So, I stayed.
He said that every time he kissed me he tasted tears,
That he could feel sadness perpetuating my soul.
That every time we met, it always changed him,
Rearranging his very being to make room for me
And my surplus baggage.
He said that I treated my stretch marks as ticks,
Illuminating my failures,
The fall and eventual rise in numbers.
But he saw them as battle scars,
Marking my journey to the shape I present to him now:
A soft and indestructible form.
He said that I was the embodiment of humanity,
Full of potential and sometimes falling short.
But because I was covered by grace,
I knew, despite the bruises and
My bleeding knees, I can get back up
And try again, even if there's a chance for fall.
He said that the shards, the brokenness of my soul
Made me perfect, made me beautiful.
That he loved to see me move
Because I always found a way
To capture the sun's light and cast rainbows
Onto the soles of my feet.
He said that he knew what I was thinking right now.
That he felt the tinge of regret running through my veins,
As if I could have loved him more.
But, reassuring me, he said that it was enough.
That I was enough, that I was all he needed.
He kept saying these things and I stayed,
Listening because I couldn't leave:
His hand laid comfortably inside my chest,
In between my lungs, helping me breathe
He knew me and I knew him
And we both knew what I had become.

ThrowBack 3.0

Conceited (If You Only Knew)

I stand before the mirror
Consumed by this image
Enticed by my shape
Enthralled with my legs
Enchanted and in love
With what God has bestowed
Some say I am conceited
But I'm really not
Okay, maybe a little
*kanye shrug*
But, am I really to blame?
Can you really find fault
With the fact that I refuse to stand here
In war with glass
And list and point out
All my flaws
All the things I wish I could change about myself
My hair that never looks right
My belly that can never hide
My skin that can never be clear
And start this endless trend
Of self-hatred that slaps Him in the face
That makes me feel like...
Nothing that I ever want to feel again
But no one is perfect
And I do get caught up
Lost in reflection
Drowning in those damned thoughts
Of feeling worthless and stuff
Then I smile
Cause I have a beautiful smile
And nice eyes
Can't forget about my awesome boobs
And my great...
Yea, I am conceited
But so what?
(Who's gonna check me, boo?)
I was born this way

The 11th

Today is the 11th and I thought I should do something just because it's the 11th =) (one of my favorite numbers if you couldn't guess)

Despite claiming otherwise, I think a lot. If you could spend a day in my head, you just might be shocked by what goes on in there. I have bits and pieces of stories, poems and dance moves swirling around...

But don't worry, I'm not here to drown you with my silly nonsense (maybe another day?). This post is a continuation of yesterday's.

I love spoken word. I have a YouTube playlist dedicated to the art that breathes life into those words. I know that the written word, in and of itself, has power but having someone say it out loud makes it more poignant.

So the following videos are the ones I listen to when I become worrisome.

The first one, called Too Creative (lyrics), by Propaganda is the better version of yesterday's post.

He speaks the truth. I'm terrified, I'm scared out of my mind. If you ever watched The Hangover Part 2, there's a scene where the guys go to Alan's house and Alan classifies himself as a stay-at-home son. And from that moment on , I thought I would go down that same road.: after a couple of failed attempts, I would go back home and live under my parents roof where it all started and die there. 

Yes, I am crazy and I probably should be committed but for some reason I think that I was made for an average life. I won't push myself because I believe that everything I will do will come out so-so. 

But what a lie, what a lie, what a lie. Listen to the video again and again until it sinks in. You have it in you. Whatever He placed in your heart, He has plans to bring them out. Don't let the circumstances fool you. He's got you and you don't need anything else. So, STRIVE (lyrics).

My favorite poem, by Carvens Lissaint and Miles Hodges, to rejuvenate my spirits. Everyone gets tired. Everyone gets discouraged. Everyone wants to quit but the only way to get anything is to keep on going and this poem reminds you of that.

Read the words for yourself. If they don't move you, then read them again because they will. They have for me.


Nobody wants to talk about it but everyone has at least one thing that brings them to their knees, breathless and defenseless... and scared.

Weaknesses bring a certain consciousness to ourselves when we desperately want to be blind to the fact that we are human. We want to stay ignorant and believe that we have all the answers, that we are self-sufficient, that we are able and capable. But once fear encounters and embraces our hearts, we remember that those lies we warm ourselves with are empty and we're consumed with the desire to run, to run until we can forget we have a crippling kryptonite.

It's a cycle that never stops.

My weakness is not knowing. I think it is the most infuriating thing in the world. If any situation involves me then I have to know. I have to know the who, what, when, where, why and how to anything that concerns me. Like how can anyone refuse to tell me any information dealing with me? Like where they do that at?!

It makes no sense to me as to why I cannot know, assess and figure out how I can control it. See where I am going with this...

I have to know in order to control the situation. If I can't know, then I can't control and if I can't control, then I'm at the mercy of someone else.

And I don't trust anybody. Yes, there are people in my lives that I can trust but even they can attest to the fact that I will nag, trying desperately to get some information out of them. And for those who are less lenient, they know I worry even when I'm quiet.

Hi, I am a worrier and it stops me from doing anything.

Get inside my head, and the words crowding my mind are I don't know. And that's terrifying.

I don't know how I feel. I don't know what to do.

I simply do not know. 

I'm surrounded by doubts and insecurities and I am trying to come up with answers but I come up with nothing. My hands are empty and my heart filled with dread cause anything can happen. Anything. Do you know how many stuff that is? That's an infinite amount of any things that can happen to me.

Yea you can narrow down the spectrum of possibilities by the likelihood, location, timing and other stuff but that doesn't make me feel any better. I want to know with a unshakable certainty what's going to happen next. But that's impossible. I can't know. 

I have to trust God that He has everything under control. And in order to do that I have to let go of the perception that I have everything in control cause I truly don't. He only has the reins and He knows what He is doing. He has the earth and the universe as proof. 

I need to have faith and believe that everything, all good and all bad things, let me reiterate that in all caps, ALL THINGS BOTH GOOD AND BAD happen for my good and His glory. I just need to rest in that fact and understand He only has my best at heart. Only my best because He loves me with an unrelenting faithful love that will never be matched here on Earth. Never. 

He redeemed me before I became a thought in my parents' minds. He sacrificed His one and only son knowing full well that I will fail Him countless times. He gave me everything knowing that even if I spent the rest of my life dedicated to Him I will never repay Him in full. Never.

He is on my side, always.

That is all I know for certain and that is enough. But I have to start living as if I believe it. 

I think I found my New Year's Resolution.


I kissed death squarely on its mouth
And was pleasantly surprised to be
Met, not with a skull,
But with soft lips that attempted,
With a breath that smelled
Like daises and white lilies,
To render my lungs useless
Not forever but for one moment
Because it understood my need,
Better than any previous lover,
To be swept off my feet.
Its eyes were a shade of eternity,
A mixture between dawn and dusk,
A color I could fall in love with,
If there was any time.
It held me with such delicacy
That I searched for high and low
But have not found yet.
It held me as if I was whole
And perfect and beautiful,
Not like a treasure chest
That has been stripped from its gold.
No, it saw me in a way
That no one ever could.
Not even me.
Maybe we got it all wrong.
I let go.

ThrowBack 2.0

A much needed reminded of who and whose I am.

My Child…

You may not know me, but I know everything about you…Psalm 139:1
 I know when you sit down and when you rise up…Psalm 139:2
I am familiar with all your ways…Psalm 139:3
Even the very hairs on your head are numbered…Matthew 10:29-31
For you were made in my image…Genesis 1:27
In me you live and move and have your being…Acts 17:28
For you are my offspring…Acts 17:28
I knew you even before you were conceived…Jeremiah 1:4-5
I chose you when I planned creation…Ephesians 1:11-12
You were not a mistake, for all your days are written in my book…Psalm 139:15-16
I determined the exact time of your birth and where you would live…Acts 17:26
You are fearfully and wonderfully made…Psalm 139:14
I knit you together in your mother’s womb…Psalm 139:13
And brought you forth on the day you were born…Psalm 71:6
I have been misrepresented by those who don’t know me…John 8:41-44
I am not distant and angry, but am the complete expression of love…1 John 4:16
And it is my desire to lavish my love on you…1 John 3:1
Simply because you are my child and I am your father…1 John 3:1
I offer you more than your earthly father ever could…Matthew 7:11
For I am the perfect father…Matthew 5:48
Every good gift that you receive comes from my hand…James 1:17
For I am your provider and I meet all your needs…Matthew 6:31-33
My plan for your future has always been filled with hope…Jeremiah 29:11
Because I love you with an everlasting love…Jeremiah 31:3
My thoughts toward you are countless as the sand on the seashore…Psalm 139:17-18
And I rejoice over you with singing…Zephaniah 3:17
I will never stop doing good to you…Jeremiah 32:40
For you are my treasured possession…Exodus 19:5
I desire to establish you with all my heart and all my soul…Jeremiah 32:41
And I want to show you great and marvelous things…Jeremiah 33:3
If you seek me with all your heart, you will find me…Deuteronomy 4:29
Delight in me and I will give you the desires of your heart…Psalm 37:4
For it is I who gave you those desires…Philippians 2:13
I am able to do more for you than you could possibly imagine…Ephesians 3:20
For I am your greatest encourager…2 Thessalonians 2:16-17
I am also the Father who comforts you in all your troubles…2 Corinthians 1:3-4
When you are brokenhearted, I am close to you…Psalm 34:18
As a shepherd carries a lamb, I have carried you close to my heart…Isaiah 40:11
One day I will wipe away every tear from your eyes…Revelation 21:3-4
And I’ll take away all the pain you have suffered on this earth…Revelation 21:3-4
I am your Father, and I love you even as I love my son, Jesus…John 17:23
For in Jesus, my love for you is revealed…John 17:26
He is the exact representation of my being…Hebrews 1:3
He came to demonstrate that I am for you, not against you…Romans 8:31
And to tell you that I am not counting your sins…2 Corinthians 5:18-19
Jesus died so that you and I could be reconciled…2 Corinthians 5:18-19
His death was the ultimate expression of my love for you…1 John 4:10
I gave up everything I loved that I might gain your love…Romans 8:31-32
If you receive the gift of my son Jesus, you receive me…1 John 2:23
And nothing will ever separate you from my love again…Romans 8:38-39
Come home and I’ll throw the biggest party heaven has ever seen…Luke 15:7
 I have always been Father, and will always be Father…Ephesians 3:14-15
My question is…Will you be my child?…John 1:12-13
I am waiting for you…Luke 15:11-32
Love, Your Dad.
Almighty God


Have you ever wondered
If your bones were oracles
You should have heeded
Or that you should have listened
To those guts now splayed all over,
Lying limp upon your sheets?
Maybe if you had paid attention
You wouldn't be here playing
Out the prophecy
Your inner being warned you about.
And you can't do anything
Lying petrified, covered with
The sweat of your sin
You can't move
Not that you want to stay
But because there's a fine line
Separating you from reality
That you don't want to disturb
A delicate boundary that
Can break as easily as
When that boy who once sweared
To you a lifetime of eternities
Took your virginity
And left you empty
No, you don't want to move
And look at him
Next to you
And realize with sobering eyes
He's a shadow of a man
A craven of a god
Who failed to call the
Cooling waters to free you
From the burning within
Who failed to give breath
To those dreams you're ashamed
To admit you still have
He failed you and
Instead gave you a truth
You don't want to swallow
How can you give everything
And still feel alone as
If you have nothing

Playing Pretend

Wake up and look around
Halloween is an everyday thing
Don't you see the lambs
Dressed up as wolves
Sheepish and adamant
About not becoming sacrifices
For a cause that lost
Its valor and its glory
Many years ago
Sadly, they are not like
The Shepard, they tune out His voice
And refuse to follow
They are selfish
And not the good kind
They feed on flesh
Rotten or fresh
They don't discriminate
They nourish and flourish
Among the weeds and desiccated trees
Being kept alive by the sole desire
To serve their starving, gluttonous bellies
With anything that can be found
But nothing satiates the need
Hunger pains don't hurt luckily
Not when immunized against their conscience
They don't want to hurt anymore
So they clothe themselves
Under different markings
Disguising their vulnerabilities
Hiding the soft spots
Putting a breastplate over the beating flesh
Located beneath their rib-cages
They are taking precautions
Ignoring their nature
To make sure that they don't break
Especially when love might not be
Worth it anymore

So Much More

Your eyes would bug out
In complete and utter disbelief
If I shared that I was first ostracized
By those who looked like me
In the sense when white people say,
"They all look the same."
But it's never revealed that
The aforementioned they
weren't looking for similarities
Around the campfires.
No, we didn't clasp hands
Singing Kumbaya and other negro songs
When the differences were 
Much more fun to poke and prod.
"No, we are not the same"
We repeat to one another
Until it becomes a mantra
That deepens and widens
The divide among our people.
"No, we are not the same"
Because first comes the skin
There's light, cocoa, red, brown
And the dark as night
"Hey, I can't see you" black
Then come the educated
And those hailed by the streets
Both looking down at the other
Because one looks like a traitor
Kissing the ass of our oppressors
While the other resembles our ancestors
Enslaved by society's perception of our color
And then comes the hair
We got the good hair 
You know the type that
A comb doesn't have to fight
and the nappy-headed hair
Attached to the sensitive scalp
Of a sensitive girl who 
Cried her way to the store
To buy the chemicals 
To straighten out 
The kinks in her DNA
Because kids dubbed her doo-doo braids
And made her feel like shit
When all she wanted
Was to feel as if she belonged.
"No, we are not the same"
Because we keep listing
All the intricacies and 
All the idiosyncrasies 
Until we stand alone
As individuals
Never really feeling at home
In a category society grouped us in.
Black; there's so much more to that.


Tears fill up my eyes when
You look at me and say that I am good
In all sense of the word and more
You know that I am perfect and wonderful
A masterpiece
I am Yours
But it breaks my heart because it must wreak
Yours, knowing that
I don't believe You.
I realize that You don't lie
But it's hard to see the truth
When all I see is a dreadful mess
Wrapped up in a carcass of a body
That You died for.
Your blood was spilled to nourish this tree
To bear the world fruit
But the weeds at my feet
Are slowly growing, slithering
Upwards, with plans to choke me
To deprive me of Your word
In order to mangle my thoughts
Into sharp swords that will
Kill me from the inside out
And the worst of it all
Is that I can't hear You
I can't feel You at times
When You promised that You will never leave me
No matter how many times I have forsaken You
Have I reached the limit?
Is that why You're not here?
Am I at the bottom of the depths?
Is that why Your voice can't reach me?
I dare You to contradict me
I dare You to prove me wrong
I dare You because
I need You


A Love Unlike

I want a love that’s worth a lifetime,
A one-of-a-kind love,
Never replicated but inspires people to search for their own unique love, 
A love that stops my heart and with a smile rejuvenates it, 
A love where a simple touch sends chills down my spine, 
Where he makes my name sound beautiful between his lips, 
A love that makes commitment less daunting than its absence from my life, 
A love that puts a new meaning to the word, 
A love that outshines those that came before,
A love that shows me it is worth the wait, 
A love where I would simply give and want of nothing because, 
In return, I receive everything,
A love that is 
“Patient and kind, that does not envy or boast, it is not proud nor easily angered and keeps no record of wrongs, a love that does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth, a love that always protects, always trust, always hopes, always perseveres,” 
A love that God ordained in His book and wished for each one of us to have, 
A love that only He can give if I wait patiently on Him. 
That is the kind of love I want…


When he revealed the secret
My eyes widened
And his laugh resonated
Within his chest
Responding to my disbelief
Then, at that moment,
I learned he wasn't as hollow
As I thought before
He wasn't as cold
As he felt before
The sound shook me
As well as his answer
I almost didn't want to
Believe either
But here he was
In the flesh
Or better yet
Beyond it
Surrounded by a blinding light
So much different than
When the clouds filled his absence
Now he was bright
I asked him again
And he smiled
Sometimes it's better to put off the questions
Especially when the wounds are apparent
Let go of the doubts
And hold on to your faith
Hold on to Him


He tasted like the sea,
And smelled like his soap.
Our lips wrestled one another,
Fighting for dominance.
And he claimed every sweet spot,
As I gasped and shivered underneath him,
Praying I could have this control one day.
I tried to find meaning between my thighs
Within my flesh, within my grasp.
As I pushed into each of his thrusts,
It materialized,
Nascent and fragile,
In front of my eyes,
And centered, strengthened inside my core.
My body hummed with excitement,
Because it knew, because it remembered,
Finally feeling alive, feeling free,
And I began to believe again.
But it shattered into a million stars,
My body died a little, I couldn't breathe,
He knocked me senseless,
Before I could comprehend it.
Becoming too much to consume,
Too much to understand,
And I was left undone, left moaning,
Lost within the rushing waves of our existence.
More so than when I first invited him in.
Once he rolled off, I felt so alone again.
It slipped out between my fingers,
Disappearing as his breathing deepened.
Lying beside him, I wait
Hungrily impatient
To try again, to climb up
And chase down the reason for living.

Let Me Say Something

Maybe I have gotten too good at this
I practiced enough at the
Masking and camouflaging
It seems to have you fooled
You who can't even see me
For who I am
The modern jack-o-lantern
I carved these scars
Into the smiles that adorn this battered face
The knife danced on my skin
Peeling and cutting away
What I deemed unacceptable
Based on a scale, not worthy of me
But you can't see that
Or maybe you don't want to
Because then you'll realize
That I am a lost cause
On your Samaritan crusade
Another failed knotch on your charity belt
Because you cannot redeem me
The price is too high
You cannot save me
With that plank in your eye
Although I have secrets to hide
My walls do not bar me from others
I see me in you
You and I are so much alike
Bound up by lies and fears
Picking at scabs
Refusing for the bruises to heal
It is so easy to remain hurt
Ignorant and indignant
While crying out for a grander quest
But how can you expect more
When you haven't dealt with
What's already in your hand,
In your heart, in your soul?
Can you really handle more crap in your life?
Is there even room for my hand?
You keep putting on these garments
Assuming a role that is not yours
I already have a Savior
I just need you here
Seeing me and still loving me
Despite everything

Confessions 3.0

I love reading... Or at least I used to...

When I was little, it was very hard to tear a book from my hands. Every time a new book from the Harry Potter series came out, you would not see me emerge from my room until 3 days later. I begrudgingly took bathroom breaks when nature forced me out of my nice bubble cause sometimes I just reeked.

But lately, I haven't consumed books the way I used to. It's like an affair that lost its luster, its shine. They just don't hold the same fascination I found a few years ago. I have new books begging to be read, but I put them aside for the internet... I blame college and fan-fiction and Tumblr and Facebook and Wikipedia and fast-streaming. Books didn't even have a chance against the internet's quick delivery, fulfilling me with instant gratification that needs to be satisfied again and again in a frequency that makes me impatient in a fast-food line.

I don't have time for development of plot and character. My patience runs thin and snaps as time passes by. A second spent waiting is too much for me. A second... In our generation, a lot can happen in a second... So a second spent waiting is a waste to me. That is why my faith is so weak cause His timing is set to His own clockwork that drives me insane and pushes me (well... not really, I leave on my own accord) to find other things, easy things to appease my needs.

And, like after eating a baconator from Wendy's, I know what I succumbed to was horrible. It might have been so good but it always leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Like real bad, real bad Michael Jackson.

I can't even finish writing because it takes work and work takes time which apparently I don't have. But life is time. No matter what I choose to do with it, time still passes and I can't get it back if I waste it doing something stupid or useless.

Life is time and it's going to be spent with each breath I take. It's my choice to do what I want with it.

It takes time to become good at something. It takes time to develop, to grow. Although I want it now, I have to wait, I have to put in the effort, I have to be patient because it takes time and time moves in a way that modern society didn't teach me.

I need to enjoy the journey as well as the destination or my joys will just be a handful.

Child to Parent

All I ever wanted was to make you proud
To see your eyes light up and your face shine
As your lips curved upwards
Towards the sky
And stole the crescent moon
I didn't want to disappoint you
Or make you sad
To make you think that I was a mistake
A stupid mistake
That needed correcting or condemning
All I ever wanted was to make you proud
Blessed and lucky
I didn't mean to become your nightmare
Terrorizing your plans for the future
I'm sorry I cannot be the embodiment of your dreams
That lay broken at my feet
I'm sorry my breath cannot resurrect your hopes
From the dust
No, my birth was not the second coming
I am not who you were waiting for
I am me
With my own hopes, dreams and plans
That will remove that bitterness
Life left in your mouth
Please believe me when I say
That you don't have to worry
I'll make you proud one day
But on my terms
You've had your turn
Now it's mine


The words won't come out.
I can't speak, I can barely type
What is going on around my head
I'm scared,
Terrified of going off balance
Of raising the risk
I need to talk
But you make my tongue go numb
The words are many
Yet none are ever known
What if you don't want to hear
What if you can't
And all of this is in vain
Cause you decided
My input has no weight,
No bearing because
I don't matter


I loved you with everything
Because I wasn't taught to do less
My dreams I sacrificed
My hopes catered to you
Because I haven't learned to do less
Love isn't a cheap endeavor
It demands, it requires
All that is within you
It isn't some cheap endeavor
It's day and night
Passion and lull
It is a choice
And at times a habit
That can be unbearable
But I wake up to you always
Because I wasn't taught any less
My heart beats for you
Even when I prayed it will still
Because I haven't learned any less
Push me away all you want
But your worst won't do the trick
Because at this precise moment
My love is needed the most

Writer's Block

It's ironic
For years now
I buried my feelings
Never an utterance rolled from my tongue
To shed light as to who I was
Building an insurmountable, impenetrable fortress
No one could glean what laid inside
Only the wise knew what brewed underneath
And, thankfully, they are a dying breed
I was alone where no one could hurt me
Safe within my own mind
Never prodded or nudged
Never asked to share what was mine
But the irony?
It's a dreadful reality
The ground, impregnated with the unsaid,
Mocks me through this empty page
Refusing to yield the fruits of silence
It doesn't care what I sowed
Or what I want to reap
Yet, when I close my eyes
It whispers the words
I try to say now
And when awake
It speaks a dead language
My thoughts, a loss forever

To-Do List

I have a million and one things to do
Now a million and two things
Demanding my attention
Clamoring to be completed
Requesting my attendance
But I don't care
Cause I would rather be doing you
Against that wall
Or in the pool
Leaning over this table
And on your chair too
A million and six thousand things in line
But you're number one in my mind

Plan A

     Her tiny fingers, so like mine, laced between Daddy’s as dinner proceeded. Glancing over at me, she flashed me a smile and in an instant, I was a little child again, basking in the light she gave out.
            I have always loved her smile. Its radiance soothed away any worry plaguing my mind, even now as a woman, who was more, at least I hoped, than capable of handling the real boogey men of adulthood. But it always offered me extra courage and this occasion was not different.
It seemed like a good time. Both my parents were in a pleasant mood, laughter flowed easily between conversations. There probably wouldn’t be a better chance to share the news that I’ve been sitting on for the past week. Focusing on their smiles, I told them.
            The words barely left my mouth when I sensed the shift. Daddy’s grin slacked a little as he listened, but he tried to upkeep the fa├žade of being happy to hear it. Mama, on the other hand, showed her disdain immediately. Her other small hand clutched the wine glass and I realized then, no matter what, there will never be a right moment to share with them, especially her.
            As soon as I finished, Mama downed the remaining wine in her glass and said, “You have got to be kidding.”
            Rolling my eyes, my assumptions were confirmed.
            Daddy squeezed her hand and tried to quiet her but she brushed him away, asking me, “This has to be some kind of joke?”
            A laugh escaped my lips and she looked hopeful, her manicured nails stringing through her pearl necklace. My eyes narrowed and I repeated what I said, ending with, “I’m serious, Mama.”
            She slammed her wine glass onto the dining table and jumped out of her seat. Her heels clicked against the floor as she paced the room, yelling, “Gina, we did not give you everything in order for you to settle just for anything. Where is your head, child?”
            I leaned back into my seat, folding my arms across my chest, as her criticisms continued. Daddy’s voice peeped over Mama’s once in a while, but he clearly shared her sentiments, only in a nicer, softer tone.
            Five minutes later, Mama, calming down, took the glass full of wine offered and sipped half its content. She looked down at me and said quietly, “Now finish up your dinner and we’ll talk about this some more later.”
            Shaking my head, I mumbled, “I’m not hungry anymore.” I gathered my plate and went into the kitchen with Mama tailing behind.
            “Don’t be foolish, Gina. You hardly touched the food,” she said as I dumped it into the trash.
“Oh Mama, I couldn’t manage another bite after the bullshit you and Daddy fed me out there.” The plate clattered into the sink.
Her eyes narrowed and she said, “Watch how you talk to me, young lady.”
“No, you watch how you talk to me. I am an adult who doesn’t need either of you questioning my every move like that. The way you and Daddy reacted, it seemed as if I proposed committing murder.”
She gulped the rest of the wine and slurred, “Well excuse me for being concerned with your life. Because you pay your own bills, does not negate the fact that you are my baby. I was born to worry about you.”
“Mama, there isn’t anything to worry about. I’m happy. I hoped you both would feel the same.”
We both stood on opposite sides of the counter, glaring at one another.
“I needed your support tonight, not your condemnation.”
“Darling, I refuse to pretend that this is what you had envisioned for yourself,” she whispered, her eyes softening.
“Are you angry because my life isn’t what you dreamed it to be?” I snapped.
Her eyes flashed and she brought the wine glass to her lips again. Realizing it was empty, she set it onto the counter and crossed her arms.
“I understand where you are coming from because I have been there before.”
Shaking my head like a petulant child, I said, “You have no idea how hard it is, Mama. I am doing the best I can.”
“You are lying,” she said simply.
“These days aren’t like those you grew up in. I’m doing better than most people out there. Can’t you see that?”
She walked over to me and took my hands into hers. Looking into my eyes, she said quietly, “I do not care for those other people, sweetie. I raised you, therefore you are my only concern and I do not think you are all that you can be.”
I shook her off and tried to walk away, hating that she couldn’t sympathize. But she grabbed my arm, forcing me to stay, to listen to the rest of the crap she had to say.
“Mama, you’re hurting me.”
She ignored my plea, saying, “All we ever wanted was what you wanted. We wanted you to achieve your dreams, your vision. Can you continue lying to my face and say you are one step closer in completing the goals you had set for yourself five, ten years ago?”
Her words hurt me and she could tell that they hit. She pulled me into a hug, but I resisted. She let go, looking sad.
Brushing my hair out of my face, she whispered, “I’m not always going to be here to remind you, Gina.” Her thumb rubbed against my cheek, wiping away a tear.
“But it looks like you remember those plans well enough.” With a kiss, she left me alone in the kitchen.
Her heels resonated as she walked through the house, looking for Daddy. I heard her call out to him, asking for another drink.
Usually when she gave me unsolicited advice, once her back turned, I would brush it off and roll my eyes. Now, tears fell from them as the realization sunk in: she is so right. 

Confessions 2.0

I'm gonna tell the truth now.

My best friend is Insecurity. It has been with me since forever. There was no me without it lurking behind my smile and my eyes. It was my shadow and became my world in the absence of light.

Although I suspected its bad influence, I clung to Insecurity because it told me I couldn't do any better. It said I had nothing to offer being me, so I stayed and fed on its lies. But the way I ate its words, you could have sworn that I thought they were truth, that they were real.

And during the feast, I forgot that you became what you eat.

Insecurity did not stop there. It wanted all of me and did not want to share. It superimposed itself onto my other relationships, creating puppets out of those I loved, who unconsciously kept me mastered and within its grasp. I could not escape when others showed its reflection of me. And the sad part of it all is when we slipped into reality, when we drifted from Insecurity's script and they spoke the real truth, I was too warped to believe anything else.

We were joined at the hip. Actually, it was more serious than that. We shared the same body. I was Insecurity personified.

My best friend is Insecurity but I really have to let it go because I want to love without the fear of the expiration date. I want to court life, not while tied up by strings but on my own two feet and of my own accord. I want to do many things but mostly I want to be me. Not me and it. Just me.

Because it's time to start being on my side.

Me Versus Me

So my head keeps playing ping pong between my thoughts
That oscillate between doubts and the truth
And it seems that the doubts have the upper hand
Am I good enough?
Am I a good daughter?
Am I a better sister?
Am I an irreplaceable friend?
Or can someone else substitute all the positions I play
What is my worth
When I know that another can do so much better
Cause I don't think I want to be here
I don't want this
I don't want any of it
All these responsibilities
All these expectations
Everyone relying on me to fill their requirements
Everyone needing me to be something that they want
Everyone molding me into a more desirable person
Someone, I believe,
Who is generous
Who is whole
Who is perfect
Who is not me
Not one bit
Because, I am flawed
I am broken
I am selfish
I am me
And even if I tried
To take on that role
Killed my dreams and destroyed my potential
Ignored my will to follow yours
I'll fall short
I will always fall short
To be the everything you want me to be

The X Chronicles: The Curse

I'm so-
No, you're right; it is your fault,
Just let me talk.
I apologize for wasting yo-
Can you please let me finish?
Now, where was I?
It sucks to say that
You are not enough, my dear
True, not long ago
I took what I could get
Afterthoughts and regrets
I received what you gave
Cause pieces of you
Fooled me into thinking
I was full and content
But the empty kisses
And the pity glances
Hollow out my barren heart
You aren't here with me anymore
Cause, let's be honest
You're with her
Yea, you thought I didn't know
You keep forgetting
Mama didn't raise no blind girl
You must be crazy to think I can't see
I'm never gonna fit into her measurements
I will always fail your fantasy
I'm not meant to take her place
Because, you idiot,
She is not me
So please, leave
Don't let our memories hold you back
I wouldn't want us to be the reason
You never attained perfection
But before you go, you must keep in mind
When she mounts you like the ass you are
When she showers you with kisses
When she brings you so close
That you can't help but come
Inside that tiny space
She'll coddle you in
Leaving you satisfied
As if you've reached the climax
My face will then haunt you
My touch will then invade you
My love will then drown you
Cause when I said forever
It wasn't meant to be taken lightly
That was my guarantee
Now, bye
And please, let the door hit you on the way out.

When I Grow Up

While staring at this gorgeous picture of Beyonce, I had an epiphany:

It's like putting on my mommy's shoes
Trying to be anyone I choose.
But realizing no one else's skin felt as right
As the one my Father placed me in.
I want to be my own kind of beautiful.
Not his or hers.
I want to be mine.

This thought hasn't crossed my mind before because who I thought I would end up being was a composite of desirable traits from other women. Like having her flawless skin, her hourglass shape, her smile, her butt, her legs. Her determination, her intelligence, her boldness, her wit. The end product would have no remnants of myself.

Instead of building on the blueprint God gave me, I wanted to ditch His plans in order to become a copy. It was never about being the best of me.

There was always something wrong; there was always something to improve. Every time I looked in the mirror, I would always find an excuse, "Oh that's nice, but..."

And commercials and the women around me did not help. The TV blatantly told me my measurements were all wrong. The women in my life told me, consciously or not, what I should change.

When I closed my eyes and pictured my future self, she would be nothing like this; not like me.

Fortunately, I'm starting to appreciate what I got and who I am.

It's a small step; a baby step forward. It sometimes hits me like "Whoa! Who's that pretty girl?" Then I smile cause it's me and next, I realize:

I have a pretty smile and a great butt (you should see my smile when I see it). My legs are awesome and I got a little coca-cola bottle shape going on. And my skin, although not perfect, has a nice tone to it. I am a fighter (to a fault cause my guy friends have no sense of mercy), a homebody, gullible, very silly, full of humor and loving.

The array of qualities within me makes me unique and special. No one can say they are exactly like me.

I wish I can say that I have come to the point where I can look at another woman and not list all her perfections while putting myself down. But I can't lie, I still do that. However, when I envision the woman I will become, everything will be all me. Not anyone else.

When I grow up, I will be older and wiser but you'll know by my big playful eyes that I am still me.