Tuesday, September 25, 2012

I'll Wait...

   This is such a beautiful song by Anthony Hamilton. It holds so much truth. Why go around giving your heart to any and everyone to beat down and stomp on when there is someone special that needs your heart in full working order...
   With that said, I'll wait for whoever is meant for me. He will know that I deserve each and every part of who his is as much as he deserves me. He will be patient and gentle, and understand that I love him with my whole being even when I act mean towards him. As king and queen, we will build an empire together, that will neither be moved nor shaken by a single being. Our hearts, bodies and souls will be so entwined that we could be miles apart and with one thought from him, I will be able to feel the nonexistent space between us as we love each other down with every ounce of passion that falls from our bodies in the form of white flags shaped as sweat...
   Obviously, I could go on and on but I won't, so enjoy and I hope this song speaks to you as much as it did me.

Saturday, September 22, 2012

I Don't Like!

Tiger Woods niggas, that's that ish I don't like!  Kobe Bryant niggas, that's that ish I don't like!
Those were the words I was singing to my friends while pretending to be okay after being faced with the harsh reality that what I have to offer as an Black woman was no longer okay or enough for the guy that I had given so much of myself to. I know I was not in a relationship with this guy or anything like that, but I really thought we were going somewhere. I guess the color of my skin got in the way. I am not white enough for his liking and that hurts me like no one could ever understand.

As I sit here deep in my thought I do not cry for myself, no. I cry for the Black man that feels that the women who look like his mother, are not good enough for him and never will be. The women who since the beginning of time, have done nothing but lift him up and submit to him with a willingness that he could only pull from our soul. The women that fought for him when the white woman cried "rape!', after their advances were declined and the white man came to teach "that nigger" that no matter how intelligent, successful or washed out he may become that he would never be good enough to grace the inner thighs of a white woman. I cry for the Black man who no longer sees the value and beauty in lifting up his black diamond and cherishing every part of her from the crown of her head to the soles of the feet that carry the burden of what seems the world.

I don't get it, and I guess I never will, but, I guess all things aren't meant for me to understand.