Smoldering Bad Habits

Living in the fog of old ways in the present days is like living in the dense smoke of second hand cigarette smoke. Inhaling burned tar without the euphoria of the exhale and release. Just stank stale smoke clinging to the cotton of first worn clothes. Smoldering bad habits that pile like buts of true smokers.. The lingering smells that never seems to truly evaporate. You no longer carry the fresh packs in purses or pockets.. But the stigma remains. Memories remain piled high in locked closets of brains you have since made amends with. Stating your wrongs, apologizing for the effects of your mistakes. New frames, new takes, down lists of names. Heads nod, lips move with declared understanding. Each day creating new memories that shine with bright intentions and better outcomes.. Yet that fog hangs around your name, your face. You want to emerge from it born anew, but you can’t erase your face, your name it still remains. You arrive changed, your thoughts rearranged with new list of to do, for you. They see you still stained by old moments, old ways. We pray each day for another chance, yet at first glance we still look the same. Can’t blame a memory that doesn’t fade. Even if the price was paid. Restitution applied with time accumulated of perfect days.. Will still just be an ornament of present with the precedent set!

Between Us Girls (Love Talk)

I hear the whispers of the girls in my world. Playing dress up in suits, sexy evening clothes and man the prime accessory, smell, and earn living just like that woman evolved does. Yet when you say man, they are once again those, sweet, naïve, hoping for that fairy tale, in her mommies heels. Back in elementary at recess, us girls were the mature brave confident girls when it came to this love thing. You had the balls to say how you felt.

Years of being that girl in heart that woman in action that wispy teenager in your sexual desire has left us here in these early years of our decade turn wishing the “boys” had caught up. The unpacked of living and the youthful actions of men have left my ladies so fearful and guarded. They don’t even realize that they have become equipped for bullshit so they see phantom bullshit in sincere situations. We have to see the difference in ourselves and men. Just like back on that yard. Pulling hair, slapping booties or even ignoring you got the point across.

Within the relm of words I find myself.. Nya Monea