ayy. why do people call u a hoe if you're just being something people are being something most people don't have the confidence to be, themselves. lol. stupid people.
trust me, people r ignorant
Why did you add the link on Islam to your post ?
cuhs pride is evil, and that’s perfect text
I know you fell out and had another seizure, and when Papa Andre found you, you had blood oozing out your mouth. I’d like to think I wish I would have been there, but I remember the first time you fell out and had a seizure. I was 9 years old, we were at the apartment in Leimart… I watched the whole thing, from you playing too much with me to you falling out and me thinking you were playing. I remember the sounds you made, your eyes rolling in the back of your head. I remember it taking three adults to get me out the room because I wasn’t leaving you. Screaming from the top of my lungs, locked in a kitchen while I hear Papa Andre yell “hold his tongue”.
Fast forward to 2012. The day of Aunt Nikki’s funeral. I hear from my room CT yell “watch Damon”. I watched it from the start again, at 17. Except this time, Uncle George grabbed you right when you fell and held your tongue for you. Still screaming, afraid of losing the only man I know I will really have in this lifetime. I was so mad at you for drinking those two days prior. I cussed out CT for buying it for you. I called her anything I could out of anger. I meant it too. I can’t believe you did that shit on the day of your sister’s funeral. A day I NEEDED YOU, Taylor and Josh needed you. People fucking needed you.
Uncle Joey sent you back to LA to live and a year later when I graduated I moved back, and some months after that’s when you had the seizure where Papa Andre found you. And I wonder— Would I have wiped the blood from your cheeks? Would I have grabbed your tongue and held it for you? Would I have been screaming from the top of my tongues for help? A hopeless 19 year old daddy’s girl.
When I was searching for you for two weeks I got a phone call from Papa Andre and he told me, your girlfriend called them and said you were incarcerated. Fuck that bitch for knowing first. You called that bitch first? You don’t have my number memorized? I search inmates.com all the time when you missing, most frustrating shit when you always tell the cops different names all the damn time. Sometimes, a piece of me, just a piece of my heart and soul just fucking prays to God that they keep your ass in that muthafuckin cell.
I know you have your demons, Aunt Nikki told me about the abandonment issues with your father, fuck your mother for letting you be homeless out here in these streets, while she lives happily in Hawaii with her husband and fucking 21 daughters. I watched my mother break your heart, I understand you hurt. I feel your pain. Your family always calling talking about some intervention bullshit. Them broke niggas can miss me with an intervention. They always talking that shit “you the only one your dad will ever listen too” “you the only person who can talk to your father”, but when I talk to you about your alcoholism, you defend yourself by saying “at least it’s not crack”. I wouldn’t give a fuck if it was heroin. You are a slave to this shit.
Remember 2010 I came to LA from SA and gave you a note, it said “DON’T BE ASHAMED, WE ALL HAVE OUR ADDICTIONS”, and when you moved to San Antonio you looked at my scarred body. Dad, you remember when I was blacked out in my room and you grabbed the blade out my hand. DAD DO YOU REMEMBER? I woke up, with cuts and a missing blade and I knew forsure you had hid that shit. I barged in your room and told you “give me my shit back” ready to destroy that room. I blamed you and you never judged me. I blamed you that night and you didn’t even tell on me. You didn’t tell a soul daddy. You just took my blade and kept my secret.
My Gemini King, with two sides. I refuse to judge you because you are my KING. The only man I’ll ever bow down too. The only man who sins I will wash off every day of the week. People keep telling me if I keep fighting your battles I will endure so much pain, but that’s what I don’t give a fuck about. I’m tired of my friends running into you on the street and you’re belligerently drunk out your mind. Embarrassed? Never. Mad? Always. I’m tired of spying on you, searching for you. Tired of finding you drunk and beaten on. Your pride has officially been abused. Your pride, my heart. You see what the fuck I’m saying? Dad if I had the correct amount of money to take care of you I would, in a heart beat. If I could be homeless with you, I would in a heart beat. I don’t care.
I’ve written countless poems; and you are aware of my talent…
I don’t want to write poems about my dad being drunk all the time,
do u know what it feels like to have to search for the man, who should never in his life lose u,
I search the streets, looking for his homeless self, I kicked him out my life,
he chose the booze over me, so I got jealous and told his ass to leave,
so I’m driving down 48th, down 43rd, down Crenshaw,
and every chance I get I wave at the nearest homeless Mexican and ask him if he’s knows a Damon,
in the car, my feelings are caged in,
but I’m alone, breaking my neck every time I see a man, too see if it’s Damon,
but I don’t see him,
how this nigga leave me?
I swore he loved me, but that nigga,
that nigga was just deceiving,
this shit is embarrassing,
so Jina broke your heart and you let that bitch tear us apart,
and now that you played me u hiding,
you knew I’d be in town this December and u fucking hiding,
from you, I’m nothing but your reflection,
you deceive me, and I’m the epitome of deception,
you have nothing to be ashamed of,
not to worry, since you on that crack, Ima be the blame of,
you think you running from your demons,
but I’m possessed, with the demons you’ve given me,
you abandoned me, so I fuck these niggas and give them me,
yeah everybody got dad, but where the fuck mine at,
yeah I pushed him, but I thought my love was more than crack
why is your mind always in the wrong place?
why does everybody love you
and yet you fill yourself with so much hate?
you’ve fallen victim to your lust,
and now you don’t know your place.
walking around lost cause your period is late.
thought you could trust that one nigga,
but you got played.
..I guess you got your mother’s trait.
they say that the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.
yet you stay faded,
like your father
so at night you slit your wrist
and let your soul breathe
why must you dwell in the past?
drowning in your dead lovers sea.
I’m that girl
scarred by her father’s insecurities.
my daddy done lost his mind
and I lack purity.
I fall for the same niggas,
who act like the same nigga,
who use to rest his head on my mommas titties.
my daddy does drugs,
and I fuck boys who wouldn’t know I’m witty.
my daddy does drugs,
and my new boyfriend think he loves me dearly.
my father broke his own heart,
and left me.
saw my mother in me and dead me.
so I walk around with never trust tattooed on my heart.
thinking which one of these niggas
can love me,
You don’t see how you’ve effected me, I need you.
I love you.
ur so perfect
a little bit, im close thou
Bb what's the song in your snapchat. The second one that says "trynna be ok with the fact that, I might not be" A niggas been googling for an hour -__-
trynna be ok with the fact that, I might not be i might not b the only one
like damn she b speaking to my fucking soul
but i got u lemme get the song for u and the others who want to know
S/o to B johnson for putting me on —
Stingy- Stacy Barthe
And even if love was the only solution. The problem is more complex, with death and suicide on the rise. All we need is sex. If your head is full of lies and your heart full of glass its as simple as a kiss. So that when memories fade and we both die, our lips will forever exist. So make this move with me.
I love this, u just turned me on