#notes chronicles

DYSLEXIA

-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.

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.