It’s World Poetry Day. Read my Sucky Poem!

Today is World Poetry Day and I couldn’t be more excited. I love poetry! I’ve been sharing some of many of my favorite poems on social media all day long.

I decided to share one of my poems on my blog. Several years I ago, I wrote a manuscript during one of my manic phases about the passion and unrequited love I experienced with The One Who Didn’t Feel the Same. It was nearly 8,000 words. I thought it was the greatest thing ever. He felt quite the opposite though. Years later I can see why I would probably be freaked out too if someone handed me 70+ pages about their feelings about me. Yikes!

I won’t bore you with 8,000 words though. I’ll just share an excerpt in honor of World Poetry Day. Try to enjoy!


I want to caress you
With the flesh of my words
Until you are found naked
Breathless in the midst of them
And too overwhelmed to read the next line

I want to push you
Against the wall of my words
Pin your arms down
And brush them against you
Whisper sweet nothings in your ear
Deprive you of your sight
And trace each letter across your lips

I want to straddle you
With its heated secretions
Wrap my words around your waist
Use my thighs as a guide
And grind them into your thoughts
Until you render a response

Thrust your eyes against my pages
And tremble with passion
Repeat with me in unison
Until you unequivocally surrender
To my doctrine
Thumb across my words
And land into my mouth
Kiss my impatient lips…


169 Days

It’s been 169 days since I had sex y’all. 169 damn days! I’ve avoided sex for so long because I wanted more perhaps out of jealousy; I also felt like time was running out for me. I go back and forth between wanting something real and wanting to be a fucktoy. This internal struggle is real!

This lack of sex situation has gotten so bad that I’ve actually cried. I don’t know whether to attribute it to the hypersexuality of bipolar disorder, the neediness of the love addiction, or if a sista is just plain lonely. Perhaps it’s all of the above. The hell if I know!

I need to feel desired if only for that moment. I need to feel someone pressed against me. I want to lose myself inside of someone else. I just need a release that I simply cannot get from self-pleasure or directing this energy elsewhere. I miss the smell, sweat, dirty talk, moans, and the feeling of a stiff one inside of me filling all my voids. I need to feel someone’s mouth and hands all over me. I know I must sound deranged or like an addict right now.

I feel like if I don’t have sex I’m going to die from an unfulfilled vagina. I think about it constantly. I’m having sexy dreams about Silver Fox and others. I’m watching the filthiest of porn. I get sexually excited from reading dirty ads on Craigslist. I listen to ads posted by perverts on telephone personals. It’s gotten bad y’all. I’m surprised that I haven’t stripped butt naked and was like…


I inboxed Fire on Facebook. I did not hint that I wanted sex but he probably knew I did anyway. I really don’t keep in contact with him. I sent the following thirsty ass messages to him:


“Soon” wasn’t what I wanted to hear. Soon could be next week or next month. I haven’t responded yet. I want to have sex but I feel embarrassed about how thirsty I came across. Who sends a crying emoticon because they can’t have sex right then and there? What has become of me?

Don’t answer that question y’all.