#notes chronicles

[s0u1-surfing]

DYSLEXIA

“noun a general term for disorders that involve difficulty in learning to read or interpret words, letters, and other symbols, but that do not affect general intelligence.

You said a relit cigarette never taste the same, and swear that you’re going to drive me insane You saying this flame, Isn’t the worth the shot? I mean I know I love life, But we loved each other, did we not? I know that I’m scared, Watching time go by But it’s never gonna stop until we die. Now let be clear, Despite your words and lies, You talk about being straight up and “Hi’s” And then to supply Sex? With each other. Oh brother, I know that we were close And it was the best. But fuck that shit, You getting it from all rest Of ‘em. Don’t fucking mess with me, Like Im some other chick Tryna get the dick at the end of the night. Shit. I was loved, Not liked or used. So please, save all your talks of disfusing This bomb. Because baby I promise you, This bond is not a bomb, Not a cigarette but An opportunity that could end in unity a continuity Despite the insecurities. A relit cig that won’t ever taste the same, But it makes you sane. And it’ll taste different, Because after that one you quit smoking. And it make be tender at first, But then it is something better Not worse. Remember I am not some chick, I am a thief, That steal hearts like stolen cars, And Drove from Kempner to Lamar. here’s a secret, I now strap up To avoid any teardrops. Because I have been shot, Before. And it was so Painful. So this isn’t a little game, Of Best two out of three. My name is Eileen, And you used to be a part of me. But I have lived through a storm And transformed into more. And I saw you for you, Damaged and torn. So don’t come around, telling me of tasting relit cigs and friendships Because baby I’m about to jump ship, Because this shit, Looks dyslexic.“

-on being tired of not being able to love you right anymore

Finished on February 8, 2015 9:40pm

[s0u1-surfing]

-the moment I heard this song in the theatre, images flashed through my head. A quick history recollected through my mind along with a little bit of fear. I remember the days when all I wanted to do was tell you how shitty or wonderful it’s been. And now, we have no idea where we have been. We became stranger so fast, and being friends didn’t last. Yet we can still finish each other’s thought or sentences like mad libs. And lying to myself of being civil is completely tragic. This is mad shit. Why is that we are over, yet no one can let go of this shit. This dyslexic shit, of twisted words, nothing clear and with all that I’ve heard, About you. Is shit I don’t wanna fuck with but remember I fucked with you. Because you were my joy and my love at one point my life but you taken the knife and stabbed me all over. And over. I keep telling myself it’s over. I lost my bestfriend, it’s been a bad day, and I still want to just lay down and tell you Everything. Everyday. How it is without you.

-when everything reminded me of you

"See You Again"

April 15, 2015

[s0u1-surfing]

The thing about moving on is Missing what gone Because you try to recreate Another bond As strong as this. But they seems to get weaker and weaker And my feet hurt From walking away So much That my soles has blisters. My soul is blistered. I have these sores And bubbles all over my skin But I remind myself That you are not all there is. As females, it’s our instinct to sacrifice ourselves for the people we love. To tend the flames, and shelter, and pray to the above For the sales of our souls, and their souls. And sew the holes of things that are torn And ripped apart by those Of no shame. Who don’t give a damn of the price we pay When give our lives and hearts to them everyday. We give our hearts away, And then niggas come back and just Drop it off at our doorstep Like a package, Like its fucking baggage to them. Shit, if a nigga cant handle the heat, He needs to get the fuck out before Dawn, Because as a woman who has lived and learn, I’ve discovered that being selfish and a bitch Isn’t all that wrong. See, sometimes you need to do this, If you can’t do it for yourself, Do it for your mother, your sisters, your aunties, show them your dignity isn’t gone. Ya gotta keep fighting, keep fucking breathing, Because this war of heart ache and heart break Will never be over. Like cingular minutes, it rolls over Into every thought of your head. Every moments and every breathe And at first you feel like your dead, But like a babies heartbeat, You’ll feel life come back to you randomly. Little by little, it’ll get stronger, And soon you’ll be strong enough To bust out and love again. Who knows who it will be in the end, But for damn sure, Keep reminding yourself That what your doing is okay. Put some band aids on your feet, And keep walking, Because you never know that maybe one day, like they say, At the coffe shop down the street, You’ll get a repeat but with happier ending. Someday, we could be, dancing through the summers heat. And maybe we’ve moved on, Maybe it’s a different bond, Maybe just maybe, We might still be love.

-on becoming content

June 3, 2015 5:16am