Losing you

Don’t lie to me, all I want’s the truth

Inside of me, I think I lost you

Who you tryna be? What you tryna prove?

Not the person I knew, I knew, no.

Don’t lie to me. 

Wasn’t feeling no love 

Like monogamy

Had me thinking there was something really wrong with me

But now I’m seeing that the problems was honesty, right?

Cuz you never told the truth

Funny I missed every one of your clues

Now you probably fallin in love with some new girl

Fuck it! I’ma blame the whole thing on you

You’re why I’m broken in two.

And you’re as cold as winter

I’d still give you another chance but you too busy drowning your liver

Probably scrolling on Tinder

You miss me hardly more than your liquor, your friends, or your ex

Maybe this is me being bitter

I tried to change for the better

Yeah, I made mistakes

But the difference is you changed never

Finally pulling the level

Leaving my room

I’m so sick of writing these letters

Losing my mind thinking you just want somebody new

Leaving me with trust issues

But you don’t care 

See its just more of the same. I’m going insane

Standing here screaming your name

Looking into your eyes I could see you were fighting the pain

Saying please don’t, please don’t do it again.

Damn. Abort your baby and don’t even get a text

Now you didn’t want the loving all you wanted was sex

How you went and preached

While at the bar spending your check

I ain’t holding back, how’s this for real shit?

Not your fictional lies always talking bout living a life you wish that you had

I’m doing great by the way, figured you wouldn’t ask

I fucking hate you

Just look what you did

After every damn thing that we been through

This is what I get? Leaving me in a mess

Then you run and hide

Only your scandalous friend on your side

I know you talk about me to everyone in your lines

Telling people our story

But they won’t ever hear mine

You probably won’t listen. I’m just wasting my time

I’m in pieces. I know what I did

What makes you think music will ease this?

How long you gonna keep this?

Guess that you don’t care

See its just more of the same, I’m going insane

Standing there screaming your name

**adaped lyrics from Don’t lie to me–Ollie



Being bipolar some days she just wanted to end everything. It’s hard and exhausting fighting the mania and depression and pretending to be normal. The depression was especially hard for her. She would sit alone some days incapacitated by it and feeling worthless. Some days not even whiskey helped. She would feel alone and helpless and unworthy of love for no reason whatsoever. And god forbid she admit it to someone and get called crazy. 

That was the worst and hardest term to hear, crazy. Was she really crazy? No. Just like a diabetic didn’t ask to be born that way nor did she ask to be born with a chemical imbalance in her brain. Some few supportive people in her life would say that no one is normal and normal is boring but they didn’t really understand how hard it was waking up and wondering if she was going to feel like conquering the world or crawling under a blanket and crying that day. 

How does someone function when they never feel in control of their own thoughts or emotions? How does she find the will every day to get up and battle the darkness? Especially when she is labeled as “crazy” by most. Yes, she was unsteady but crazy? No. Her emotions were real to her whether prompted or inexplicable and they were 10 times stronger than most. Her struggle was real and all she ever asked for was support and understanding. But unfortunately that was hard to come by because mental diseases are looked at as a stigma.

So she shut her mouth, tried to fake it, and fought her battles internally until it all became too much.

*if you need help please contact someone either the national suicide prevention hotline or crisis hotline: text: 741741

Life Raft

    And here this man stood. Asking nothing of her but a second chance. And she was terrified. She didn’t know what to do or what to say.

    He was perfect. As if she’d ordered him from a catalogue. Tall, athletic, dark (melatonin wise, which she so “affectionately referred to as ‘extra crispy’”). And he wanted her.  He wanted her crazy ass for some reason. God knows why. Something about her five years ago had absolutely captivated him.

    She only hoped and prayed that maybe the woman she’d become would further captivate HIM (her true love), but that was a long shot. For she was no longer the woman that he remembered. Back then, she’d been such a naive girl. She’d believed in love and traditional family.

    Now, at 27, she no longer believed in either. How could she? She’d wasted 3 years of her life on the man that she loved, and for what? To be told that he still wasn’t ready? How can you love someone for 3 years and still not be ready for them?

    She’d been ready. She wanted to be there for him. To hoist him up onto a pedestal to show him what he was and that he was capable of so much more than he believed. But, he didn’t believe in himself, and so, she had to move on.


    Years later she married a Duke.  The man who had been perfect for her. She lived a pleasant and satisfied life. But deep in the back of her mind, in a fortress of thoughts that she kept only for herself.

    She wondered.

    What was HE thinking of?

    Did he think of her? Did he miss her?

   And if not… why?

For HE had been her world, and she had simply been his sustenance.

He had been her life,

while she had simply been his life raft

Note from the Author


Apologies for the great lack of writing lately.  I haven’t really had any inspiration, and am not a proponent of “writing through the block.”  However, I’ve recently had a lifestyle change that inspired me to write again so I’m starting a mini-series of sorts called Sugar and Spice.



Sometimes she needed to be alone to be free.  The trouble was, loneliness was her own personal demon.  She was her own personal demon.  She craved it like a drug, but once she got it she let it tear her apart.  Once she was shredded to nothing she would surrender and let others use her.  It made her feel whole again, but people are selfish. Once she gave them what they wanted, they left her until they needed her again.  And when they left, she was just as torn as she had been before, maybe even more so if that was even possible.

She needed to learn to sit with her demons.  To hug and caress them.  She needed to tell them that although she accepted them for what they are, they could no longer run her life.  She could no longer let others use her.

Be lonely, be imperfect, be a mess.  Accept it and then move on because in the end it would always be she who was left there when everyone else had moved on.  It would always be up to her to be happy.


They sat side by side on her bed, talking about everything.  Work, life, their relationships.  Okay.  Maybe we CAN do this.  She thought to herself.  Maybe they could just be friends.  But then again, he was sitting so close to her.  His left hand was resting on the bed behind her, and he was leaning into her a bit.  And then there was that look in his eyes.  The one that said it all so that he didn’t have to: how badly he wanted her, how amazing and beautiful he thought she was, and how he loved her even though he knew she was fucking crazy.  She had a love-hate relationship with that look.

And then it happened.  He stood up and shoved her back onto the bed.  It was the perfect balance of soft and rough.  Her heart raced as he crawled on top of her and kissed her.  He started with her lips: sucking and biting softly.  She let out a soft groan as he moved to her neck and kneaded her breast.  As his hands moved to unbutton her jeans, reality came crashing back to her.

“Darrell wait!”  She half gasped half screeched as she sat up, “we can’t.  We promised we were gonna stop doing this.”

He sat back and scratched the back of his head, “I know,” he admitted with a sheepish grin, “But I can’t help it.  I don’t know what it is with you.  I told you it’d help if you were ugly.”

“But D…I can’t do anything about that, and anyways, what about Mary? She’s pretty and she and you are just friends.”

“You right.  I don’t know.  It’s like you have some kind of spell on me.  Do you really want me to stop? Cuz I will.  I’m not an asshole, even though you wish I was” he teased.

She sighed and sat back against the pillows.  At this point both her head and her heart were racing.  She didn’t know how to feel and she wanted to scream.  

“Honestly?” She asked, searching for the answer in his eyes. He nodded.

“As a petty ass bitch, I want to tell you not to stop.  But as a friend I want to tell you that you need to figure this shit out so that you can let me go.  It’s wrong D.  I mean, do you even feel bad?”

“I do feel bad…I just…I don’t know.  When it comes to you it’s like nothing matters.  I know it’s wrong, and I know that you’re crazy, but it’s like none of that even matters.  I mean, I don’t even care that you fucked Swift, and normally that’d be a dealbreaker for me.”

His answer hit a little too close to home for her and she sighed again, rubbing her eyes in frustration.  She completely understood how he felt.  She also had no clue what it was that pulled her to him.  He wasn’t incredibly attractive, nor was he “a catch” in any other way.  But for some reason all he had to do was look at her, and she would do virtually anything he asked.  Maybe it was the fact that he wasn’t an asshole, or maybe it was how he made her laugh because they had the same sense of humor.  Regardless of why, they were drawn to each other despite the fact that they could never really be together.  

After a long period of silence, she looked up at him and shrugged, “so are you actually staying the night or are you going back to Joe’s?”  She asked.  He grinned mischievously.

“Do you WANT me to stay the night?”

“I don’t give a fuck, Do you want to stay? You can if you do, but you don’t have to if you…”

“Nina,” he interrupted in frustration, “how many times have I told you? You don’t have to act like a robot all the fucking time. It’s ok to have feelings.  Just tell me you want me to stay and I will.”

“You don’t have to stay if you….”

“Seriously? Shut the fuck up if you’re not gonna tell me the truth.  I know you want me to stay. I just wanna hear you say it for once.  You can’t hide behind your bitchy ass attitude with me. Tell me how you really feel.”

She started to roll her eyes, but his expression stopped her and she gave in.

“I want you to stay,” she admitted softly without looking him in the eyes.  


So he stayed, and for a little bit it was as if she was getting everything she’d secretly wanted for the past two years.  They didn’t even have sex.  They just cuddled, kissed, and watched a crappy horror movie (her favorite).  She knew that it was impossible and that she was gonna regret it later.  She could already hear her sister’s voice in her head: I just don’t want you to get hurt.  He’s your kryptonite.  You know he’s gonna hurt you.  That’s part of the reason you’re in love with him. But she didn’t care.  Life hurt.  But moment like this…they made it all worth living,


The morning came, and she dropped him off at his house.


On the way home she started to cry.  Her perfect moment was gone.  Darrell would go back to his fiance and she would go back to her boyfriend until the next time he called.
Friends can break your heart too.

Not Insecure

“Oh so you’re one of those girls,” Ellen said in the flippant way that she said most things.  It was actually quite a talent  and most days it was even entertaining.  Ellen could make any rude remark sound completely void of negative emotion, as if she were stating a simple fact.

“What girls?” She asked.

“Those girls who want an ugly boyfriend so that they won’t lose them,” she clarified.

She just shrugged, “well I guess…I just don’t wanna have to deal with other girls hitting on him. It’s annoying”


She didn’t mind letting Ellen and everyone else believe that she was “one of those girls.”  It was easier than the truth.  Insecurity is common and even expected from women, but the fact of the matter was…she wasn’t really all that insecure.  


One of the beautiful things about living her life the way she had was that she accepted herself.  Once she had gotten tired of feeling ashamed and guilty she realized that no one else really mattered.  As long as she loved herself and as long as she was ok with herself, well, what else really mattered?  So no, she hadn’t told her boyfriend to keep his hair long because she was insecure.  She had told him to keep his hair long because she was realistic.


Her sister and she had a game they would play every year in high school.  They called it Con because they liked to think that they were con artists.  They would wait until the middle of the school year when couples at the school were well established and comfortable.  Then they would spend an entire day doing everything they could to get the boys to dump their girlfriends.  At the end of the day, they would dump all of the boys and compare notes to see who had gotten the highest number of boys.


It was a cruel game, but in actuality it was an honest game.  Monogamy is a choice, and a hard one at that.  Approximately 70% of men cheat, as do about 70% of women  And when it came to her own personal experiences, she was always either getting cheated on or she was with another woman’s man.  


She was very secure.  She knew that she was rare and that he’d be a complete moron to fuck things up with her.
But then again, isn’t that what those other girls were thinking while their men were in her bed?