Zombie Family Christmas

Old Poetry & Writing’s During this oh so fun quarantine time that we all, as a mass of people, are sharing together. I would love to share with you some more of my old writings that I have saved for a wonderful quarantine day like today. Please enjoy. P.S If you have not read my previous poetry blog post keep in mind that most of my work was written at a bad time of my life. I was also 17-19 years old when I wrote most of these, so I tend to sound like a love-sick puppy or a whining teenage girl because that’s exactly what I was. I love reminiscing on old thoughts and feelings and I want to share this part of myself with the world. I no longer want to be the sad, shy, vulnerable girl I was when writing these. The girl who was too scared to show the world who I truly am. I will share more recent works once I actually get the creative juices to start writing poetry or short stories again. Until then enjoy the works of my broken past self. Boring Can’t you just hold me? Right now you’re making me feel a little boring. Probably snoring. When we could be soaring, higher than ever before, but I’m sunk on the floor. What a bore. Just something I can’t ignore. Falling Behind What do you write about when all you think about is one thing? How should this even begin? Like, life’s like a ladder that never ends. Take two steps forward and two more begin. Take A Seat Don’t know what to write, so my man’s going to get me a Sprite. Try to get my juices flowin’ so I can start growin’ to become what I want to be. letting y’all see that I’m capable, come take a seat at my table. I’ll show you what’s on the menu. Trust me, you’ll be impressed with the venue. Learning Wish I had some better words, more complex verbs. Everything just comes out boring, my puns start sounding kinda corny, but I’m still learning. Most people at this point shoulda heard of me, if not, fuck em. I’m on the next level. Too Much Too much going on, I don’t know what’s wrong. Thought everything’d be great. Let the hate dissipate. When I’m rhymin’ the whole floor starts to shake like an earthquake. Yo Joe, I ain’t fat doe. I eat a whack MC like a burrito. Mamacito. Poems Keep re-writing these lines like I was writing some poems. Which is so dumb. I don’t know, where is my flow from? But I know it makes you go numb. Dancin’ to the drums of this dopalicious beat discrete on the creep. Hot like Miami Heat, put y’all niggaz to sleep. Stuck on disbelief, watch me while I slay the chief. Shag - Know the Feeling *Click the Title for Instrumental Having good thoughts for tots. I don’t want them to ever stop feeling the euphoria till the beat drops. My senses heightened off the rocks, but the clock ticks on and on. I try not to feel anything that could be goin wrong cause we all know the feelin and life goes on. Fight or Flight Get smacked up left and right. We down to the wire. Time to fight or flight on out the door. can you hear em’ screamin’ for more and more? ♡ Bitch Niggaz ♡ *One of my favorites! Fuck this shit, most people in the game don’t even know how to spit. No way they playin’ for themselves, they’ll be puttin’ plaques of me upon they shelves. Devilish and hellfulish, these sucka’s only want one thing. Its all one big game. I’m sick n’ tired of these kids, y’all should go back to wearin’ them bibs. I don’t give no shits if you don’t think that I can spit. -Add More?- Don’t think you can erase me. You best believe I represent for all. Come on lets play a little ball. I know you’ll be cryin’ as I’m flyin’ in on y’all. This is soaring right above your head. Matter O’ fact, might as well be dead. Cause I’m done with it all, to the ground you all will fall. Bow down to the masta’, turnin’ your rap flow into a disasta’. Sorry about that, probably got your brain a little fried. Never heard someone who could actually rhyme without adding no N-words or committing a single crime. Note: I felt like this last piece needed something to connect the two different rhythms. I didn’t want to write 2 separate pieces though because it all goes well together. Suggestions are always helpful. Before anyone says anything about the title having the word Nigga in it, that’s the whole point of joke and why I titled it the way I did. So don’t get your panties in a wad. One Liners / Quick Verses Verses or one liners I wrote down because I knew it could create some fire verses if I could elaborate on them. If you like writing pretty please reach out and give me some ideas on where to take some these brief and lonely verses. Peanut Butter Wolf The peanut butter wolf. Also, the name of this new kush, smush. D.ckless Hocus Pocus! _____ got no d.ck. Go on try, give it a little kick. Jokes You look a lil’ smug, get capped wit my mug. Just kidding, give me a hug. Droppin’ Bombs I tend to drop bombs like Hiroshima, nobody said I even needed ya. Opiate You’re like my opiate, how dope is that? Spirit N’ Soul I’m not that lyrical, but I know I can be spiritual. I let words roll off my soul. Eat Rap Eating rappers catered lunch and dinners, Lynyrd Skynyrd. Smoke Wiff Blunts I smoke wiff blunts, I crack jokes, and I’m pretty nice to old folks.

“You’d be prettier if you smiled more; Could you be a doll and get someone more qualified to help me; There’s no way you could be the manager, your just a kid; Hey there pretty lady; What country are you from? Your hair looks better straight; You don’t act/sound black; Can I touch your hair?” Just a select few common micro-aggressive phrases I’ve actually had said to me by other people throughout my life, sometimes on a regular basis. Do I look as if I’m a child that shouldn’t be taken seriously? Being a 25 year old mixed woman in America, can be tough at times. I hate seeing how differently I get treated because I’m a woman, because my skin is a darker complexion, or because of my young age. I’ve had so many instances where I would be handling a disgruntled guest at my job (receptionist) and they would start yelling and carrying on with me, but as soon as I would grab the manager who was a middle aged white male, an instant 360 degree change in their demeanor. I’ve never been a person to use my race, gender, age or anything as an excuse to say I have it harder than others in life or that I face more setbacks, but when I see drastic changes in people’s behavior between me and another person in less than a minute, it’s hard to not ask myself those ‘what if’ questions. Alongside being a young, multiracial, women, I can be very shy and soft spoken. This literally gets me nowhere in life. Yay me! It’s funny because most women of color get labeled as loud, aggressive, pushy, etc. I’m in no way a loud or aggressive person and I wish stereotypes didn’t hold so much regard for the way people handle their first impressions and interactions with others. The first time in my life that I ever thought the color of my skin made me different than others was when I was in elementary school. Kids would ask me all the time, “Is that you’re Mom?” I thought nothing of it because I knew my mom was my mom. No questions asked, but one day a kid asked me a different question. “Are you adopted?” I was so confused by this question. What does adopted mean? This question was on my mind all day long until I got home and finally asked my mom what it meant. She giggled and told me the meaning and that I was in no way adopted. I still never grasped the concept of being different based on the way I looked until I had run-ins with racists acts face to face. I had a boy in the 2nd grade tell me he didn’t like me back because I was black. It confused me so much. What’s wrong with being black? I’d ask myself, hardly understanding the meaning behind the word black . I’d have more accounts like this throughout my life from being taken to white only country clubs to having to cancel photo-shoots with prejudice photographers. I could make a whole grocery list of things that have happened to me in my life just because of the color of my skin. Then to add the accounts because of my gender or age, the list only grows. You know what I find just as laughable as racism, gender rules and sexism. Woman acting loud or aggressive and then being labeled as bitches or unattractive, especially black women who get this reputation before speaking a single word. Yet men acting loud and aggressive in the same fashion being labeled masculine or sexy. The gender rules for how a person should and shouldn’t act or what makes a man a man and a women a women is a load of crap! All we are teaching future generations is that it’s NOT okay for a person to do and act in ways that make them feel like themselves. Saying a boy can’t pick flowers and put them in his hair because its girly is stupid. What if he wants to grow up to be a botanist and this is his stepping stone to realizing his dream? Well guess what, a whole society of marginalized robots just told him he can’t because it’s a “woman’s job”. Give me a break. I never truly saw the line of treatment between being male and female until I entered the work force and got into a serious relationship with a white man (an ex of mine). Customer service jobs are the worst at revealing the true colors of people. Anytime I would be working alongside other women I would notice how we would run into more angry guests than if I were working with male counterparts. I’d also notice a change in demeanor in most guests if I would grab a male co-worker or manager vs. a female co-worker or manager in problem situations. It would only make me think… What if I were the manager? Would they still treat me with this same level of disrespect? Or worse because I’m even younger than they are? Unfortunately the answer is yes. People don’t take women as serious as they do men. Why this is, is beyond me. Do we seem like push-overs? Do our words not hold the same gumption as men? Is it our looks? I’ve always have a million questions running through my head when I run into instances where my words hold no grounds to be listened to or followed. Even other women are this way, it’s not just men who act as if I have no authority when I speak. Its everyone and it baffles me. I was a manager at a convenient store at 18 years old. While I was there I had customers ask for the manager ALL-THE-TIME. It felt so good and empowering to look those people dead in their eyes and say, “You’re speaking with the manager.” It was like YES! I will finally earn the respect of this customer because they have no other option but to deal with me, the manager. This did nothing to change the way customers would treat me though. They would continue their rambling or shouting and I would tell them the exact same thing I had literally just said two seconds before they knew I was the manager and I would end up with an angry customer storming out of my store. Why? Because they just couldn’t take me seriously. Funny isn’t it? There is no aspect of my life that isn’t pre-judged or affected by what people see me as, a young, African American, female. I find this in no way disempowering to be a woman or to be multiracial. All I care about is being respected as much as anyone else of any other race or sexual orientation! It’s as simple as that. I noticed the difference in treatment between me and an ex of mine who was a white male. When we would have to deal with customer service agents for say, moving into a new home, calling a customer service agent, etc. anytime I would speak with these people I would get the run around. “We’re sorry for the inconvenience, but there’s just nothing we can do. Sorry, not sorry.” Then I put the white male on the phone and BOOM! Problem resolved and oh, they'll even throw in a free $20 off the next order. Give me a freaking break. Not only have I dealt with these experiences personally, but recently since currently being in a relationship with a black male and rekindling my relationship with my father I can see the other side of the disrespect I and other people of color face when in just about all situations. It is crazy to me how some of the simplest situations can be turned sour just because of the color of my skin. My boyfriend and I were discussing something recently that you wouldn’t think to be a racial issue, but most definitely is. I had to go renew my license at the BMV and while I was there filling out the new papers he asked me why I put “other” as my race instead of “African American” (I don’t believe this is a question you get asked at a BMV, it was just a question that came up randomly). I never really thought of it to be something to talk about, but later in the day his family, himself, and I had an entire discussion about it. I told him that I choose the “other” box because they don’t have a multiracial box to choose from … yet. Then thinking about it more I asked myself, “ Why do they need to know what race I am in order for me to do the job properly? ” The answer is, they don’t. They only want to know so that they can pre-judge me and decide if they need another one of my kind at their establishment. Same goes for my sexual orientation. Not a necessary thing to need to know in order for a person to do a job unless it involved extreme manual labor. Now, asking me if I can lift more than 50 pounds, type 50 wpm (words per minute), or anything relevant to the job itself is perfectly understandable. Asking if I’m a male or female to see if they think a woman can do that job or a black woman can do that job is not needed. I can think of so many instances and things in this world built to hold me back or make me feel insecure and less than a person because of my race, sexual orientation, and my youth. There have been plenty of times that my spirit has been broken and the stigma that I am not capable of doing certain things because of … have beaten me down to feel worthless, but every time that happens I find a way to remind myself that I am a bad ass, multiracial, female that is capable of doing anything and everything I put my mind to. I have to move past the fact that most people in this world won’t take me seriously or will choose to count me out before giving me a chance just because of those minuscule things. I choose to not shrink back, not to let the systemic oppression win and to succeed at all the things people believed I couldn’t achieve. I want all the other women who read this and are saying, “Isn’t that the truth.” To do the exact same thing and always remember that a life that’s challenging is only that way because the universe obviously favors us and thinks we are capable of handling that all extra challenging stuff. So what I am basically saying is GIRLS RULE! Everyone else is just cool. 😎 Things to check out: 10 Excellent Sites on Women’s Rights Black Girl in Om (Apple Podcast)

Ever since High School, maybe even before, I have always been a lover of art. Any kind of art spanning from writing to sculpting, singing and dancing, crafting or designing. I love expressing myself in a fun and unique way that can be perceived in so many different lights. A big part of my life when I graduated from High School was my poetry and lyrics. I was going through a rough patch in life and my means of escaping, venting, or lifting myself up were written down or recorded. I spent awhile debating whether I wanted to share this delicate part of myself with the world because criticism from your peers and mentors can be devastating. I’m no poet, rapper, or singer song writer type, but writing has always been my number one anti-anxiety medication. Everyone has their own method of stress relief and mine usually is done with writing. I do have my occasional, maybe more frequent, venting sessions with my friends where I blow their heads off with my obnoxious amount of pent up frustrations that come spewing out of my mouth hole. Luckily they still love me and continue to be there for me, no matter the word vomit they must endure. I’d like to start off with a few of my favorite pieces. Keep in mind when reading these that I was not in a good place in my life. I had big ups and even bigger downs. Some content may be sensitive or triggering to some and/or may be directed towards people in my life. I never mention anyone by name in my work and I will not be posting anything that would cause emotional pain to any individual person. Also, a lot of my work is unfinished. I would tend to start scribbling something down and then never come back to it. I didn’t want to add to any of my work because it represents who I was in those moments of my life and I admire that in a way. Please enjoy. Sirens When they look at you what do you think they see? Translucence as bright as the sea. Trying to be set free, then you look at me. Writing’s Alright All I want to do anymore is write. Everyone’s got my feelings taking flight. Am I going to be alright? Words can’t describe the feeling, but its as close as it gets. Sometimes I feel like if I just hold my breath, close my eyes, and count to three. Just to figure out who I’m supposed to be, then its back to reality. The grass isn’t always greener on the other side, you’ll see. Careful What You Wish For While you’re over here wishin’ you could be small and fit. Some girls out here wish to be curvy and thick. STOP! Don’t define yourself, let it affect your health. Trying to reach your peak of wealth with cards you’ll never be dealt. Sunrays - Madlib *Click Title for Instrumental My sun rays seem to be turning gray, why does it feel like you’re so far away. Please, just explain to me this one thing. Where’s your heart and who are you trying to be? All I see are clouds so hazy, at some point you should at least try and amaze me. I want your full potential, just flowin’ through all those instrumentals. Be my sunshine, the reason that’s made me go blind. Like its the end of our lives. I’ve always loved the color of your eyes, open up to me and be who you wanna be while no one else can see. I want you to be free. You’re locked up so far away, the path of light you have gone astray. But I will be your sunshine to guide you. Please don’t make me your prey and I shall stay. Doodle Bug Doodle bug. Vanilla scented lil’ hugs. Where’s all the time go? Slowly the work becomes worth its slow burns and incense. Find the new sense of innocence. When I Was A Kid Playin’ on jungle gyms and learning how to swim. Back when everyone wanted to be my friend. It’s a little bit funny, cause now all I do is try to make little money. I remember how back in my day everyone use to say, “Never grow up, stay a kid.” But growin’ up’s exactly what I did. A Midsummer Nights Dream Worship me, make me feel more important than thee, A midsummer nights dream. Feels like things are unfolding at their seams. Relish in the time that we’ve spent caressed in each others flesh. “Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, and therefore is winged cupid painted blind.” ( MND 1.1. 234-235 ) I can feel this deep inside, without a clear thought you’ll start to lose your mind is what a life of love feels like this moment in time. Thought U Wuz Nice - J Dilla *Click Title for Instrumental Thought you was nice, but I’m just tryna turn blind men into Mr. Rights. Come on, thought we was compatible, thought our love was adaptable, could be I’m just crazy. I can tell my visions turned a little hazy, got too much self doubting and pouting need someone that’s a little grounding. Crazy to think it could be you, but your on all that if, when, and who. Just get a clue. Thinkin’ everyone’s nice, your gonna pay the price, but I thought you was nice. I mean you got my attention, got me feelin’ this way again, playin’ with my head again. Shit, I always fall for that dumbass trick. Just stop the record. CLICK! Thank you all for taking the time to read some of my work. I’ve changed in so many ways since this time in my life when I wrote all of these pieces. This was just a tidbit of what I wrote in those few years. During that time I was in a relationship that was terrible for my mental health, I felt at odds with my family, and I had distanced myself from all my friends. My only means of escape were through writing. This was a double edge sword for me at the time though. The person I was with enjoyed writing and rapping and so this would cause a lot of turmoil between us. I had always loved writing, but it turned into a chore for me, in all honesty I haven’t written a single poem or verse since that time, but when I found all my work a few months ago it truly inspired me to start writing again. If you would like to read more of my old work please reach out and let me know. I will be posting some new poems and writings that I have been working on since finding my old work. I will also be sharing more of my old work including short stories and other projects I pursued when I was younger. Please keep in mind that this is my personal work and should not be copied or duplicated in anyway for anyone else’s self gain without my permission first. Thank you!

He lay next to me like a freshly glazed honey bun, sun glistening against his wet sandy skin. The perfect man. Not only did he have the looks, but he had the charm and personality to match. Rubbing my feet as we lay talking about weird hypotheticals. He always knew how to make me smile and feel like I’m the only person here on earth alongside him. “Baby, what would you do if I had two noses for the rest of my life? And the other one was where my belly button is?” he asked, so nonchalantly because these are questions we ask each other on a daily basis. “Baby, you know I would love you no matter how many noses, or belly buttons, or other multiple body parts you have. I love you for you, no matter what that may be.” I said as I caressed his face. He slowly closed his eyes and lay his face deeper into my palm. I’ve also loved this soft, sensual side of him. He craves my love and I crave his. The natural attraction I feel for this man is astounding. “You better, because your stuck with me regardless. Pshh! If you had 4 toes and 11 teeth I’d still love you girl. You got me fucked up if you think I’d stop loving you just cause you look like a whole circus.” he said in his most sarcastic tone. Trying to keep a straight face, but that devilish side smile can’t be hidden from me. He was always the one. I’ve know this since the first time I met him. The way we talk, the way I feel when I’m close to him. He feels like home, so familiar and natural. As if we’ve lived another life together. “I need you to do me a favor baby.” he said, his voice shifting into a deeper and more sensual tone. “I need you to come sit on daddies dick in front of all these people.” he insisted as he started to rub up my leg and into my crotch. He started putting his other hand in his pants and asked, “Can you do that for me baby?” I bite my lip as I felt his soft warm hand work its may up my body and around my clit. Closing my eyes I laid my head back taking him in. Letting him tease my wet pussy until I had no other choice than to take him up on his offer. “Yes daddy.” I breath as I let him work my wet suit bottoms off me. “ Anything for you daddy.” I said. I love calling him daddy and letting him bossing me around like the little slut I am. Being called names and spanked like a bad girl has always been a turn on for me. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy being the boss and doing my fair share of tying him up myself, but I want to be ruled like a fucking planet. I want my entire body explored before I take charge. Excited from the public display of naughtiness I got right on top of daddy, so that he and I were face to face and I started shoving that dick inside me like it was my favorite toy. So wet from him teasing me, rubbing my clit like it was a guitar. I couldn’t help myself, I let out a load moan and a few eyes glanced our way. This is so fucking hot! I thought to myself. I’ve never done something so risky and yet so fun and exhilarating. “Looks like we’ve got a few fans baby. Bounce up and down on daddies dick faster.” daddy said as he took a handful of both my ass cheeks and gripped them tight. I continued fucking the shit out of daddy. I knew everyone was loving it just as much as we were. He bite his lip and started to moan loader, just as I started to cum all over daddies dick.  I yelled, “I’m cumming!” So loud that I know everyone within a mile radius heard me. Everyone that had been standing around watching started to clap as daddy pulled his dick out and came all over my face. I tasted his sweet, warm cum and smiled for the audience, “Thank you, daddy.” “No, thank you girl.” daddy said as he kissed my cum covered lips.