Validation

I see girls switching on their cameras, stripping off their morals, in search for validation; in the form of 1000 likes.

I’ve seen and heard them say and do things, in spite of what they promised, their 8 year old self.

In the wee hours of the morning, you can see teardrops seep from underneath their doors, Crying for love, that they cannot afford to give themselves.

They Strain their pockets and kill their legs, just to look prettier than the next girl, like we’re all in some sort of attention grabbing competition.

I’ve heard them say hurtful things, to other woman, to get a backing from a man, who will probably think less of her, but want to see more of her, naked, on his body.

I’ve seen and been a victim of how they step on heads and lay on beds just to elevate themselves.

The world gets to see how their confidence is actually on their skin, by the way they barely have clothes on.

Somehow I’m grateful for men that confuse woman, because it makes it easier to sift for a woman who possess Character. A woman who never wavers her decisions based on a man’s current preference.
Thick, skinny, dreaded, long hair, natural,  makeup yet bare.

A woman of substance and self love. Never alters her life or value system based on how a man is feeling during their encounter.

We, as a woman, need to stop craving positive feedback to help us see how our identity and beauty fits into a man’s world. We seek for validation on social media, because we get instant feedback and gratification. Problem is, we are looking for validation in very dangerous places.

Let’s be honest;

“Social media is a virtual talking mirror that contains irrelevant voices”

All I’m saying is, most influential voice,  should come from within…

“I have grown to understand that I’m difficult to love, not because I’m broken, but  because I’m whole. I don’t give guys the luxury of loving me in parts. I love all of me whole heartedly, so it becomes difficult for a guy to squeeze through my insecurities to fill a void he might think I possess. I don’t get aroused by petty compliments.
See, some guys find joy in loving someone who’s broken so that they fix them just to break them again.”

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Dear Destroyer

You took a huge part of me & ran away,
When were you planning on telling me?

In your head, I was just a phase.
You should have fucking told me.
 
The only reason I don’t let people in,
Is because I hate how they always up and leave.
No goodbyes,
Just up and out as they please.

I was honestly on the verge of blaming myself, thinking my emotional flaws pushed you away.

I thought maybe those couple of days weren’t my “Fully Me” days.

But is wasn’t me, was it?
It was you who pushed yourself away.

Unfortunately I’m not the type that forces people to stay.

You got me so close to letting my walls fall down, so many times I felt them shake.

Labelled you “too good to be true”, now I can see your Knight and Shining amour Silhouette was fake.

Okay, no I’m lying…

But I can’t believe that you used the oldest trick in the book as your bloody bait.  

Better yet, I can’t believe I fell for it.

It was a matter of time before your dirty colours escaped.
I’m glad I didn’t witness the kaleidoscope of your chaos.

I guess it’s not much irony that the climax of our in betweens was the actual climax between the sheets.

Or I guess it was dramatic irony, because as your actress to a play I didn’t even audition for, I was never clued that my character was foolish and lacked self-awareness.

I would have never taken the role if you didn’t present it and under false pretence.

But honestly, I wouldn’t have let you hit it when you did.

I can’t help but let the little laughs escape my breath when I realise that you’re mature act was just part of your masquerade.

Never in a million years would I ( under normal circumstances) thought I’d ever be at the receiving end of your childish outburst.     
    
Ohh, and that thing you took from me? You’re welcome to keep it, in fact, keep this little poem as your damn receipt. No returns though. I want you to keep it.

P.S
If you wanted me to write warmly about you, you should have acted better.

Stranger

I don’t know why I’m writing this,
But it kinda feels good…

I know you’re somewhere out there 
Probably reading this…

I’m assuming you’re a Stranger 
Who probably knows nothing about me
Because for long, those closest to me didnt even know I write poetry. 

So any judgments you make of me
Will be based on this poem,
Or perhaps the other poems I’ve written.
I like that!

I like how I can slightly control what you think of me.
Showing you my good,
My bad,
Or what you may regard as My ugly.

I like the idea of you formulating your opinion about me, based on that alone.

I know this won’t make much sense…
But I truly appreciate you & your presence.
I appreciate you taking time off your busy life,
Just to read words that I’ve managed to rip off my chest,  
Because those closest to me,
Those who swear they love me, 
Just don’t have the time… 

That’s what I like about you I guess
The fact that you’re here 
Actually giving a damn about me,
Or at least leading me an ear… 

At this very moment in time,
I can be anyone I want to be
Just to create the perfect first impression,
But instead,
I choose to be myself.
I’d like to have a chance to be loved for who, I am for once.
Even if it’s just for a moment..
I may never feel it,
But that mere thought will keep me going.

Either way Stranger,
I thank you… 
I thank for allowing me 
To make my first impression on you, 
For giving me a chance to start over,
For somehow making me feel loved…

We’ll probably never meet 
Or cross paths again…
This will probably eventually fade from your memories before dusk falls or the sun rises.
And I Will probably forget that I ever wrote this.  
but in this moment
Or souls have collided, 
And we will never be, like we once were…

For The Body

It never crossed my mind that taking my clothes off for a couple of sweet words was beyond unethical.

You see, Prostitution is a trade-off between morals & money.
But what do you call it when you trade your morals for attention?

Society taught me, who I am, isn’t good enough,
Since then, I’ve been in search of validation,
& in return I left my body in complete annihilation,
Because I’m too busy living to give a damn about my education.

I’m too busy putting on make up because I don’t like the sight of my bare reflection.

My mind & body are in some sort of bittersweet altercation.

I seem to allure strangers that may never be properly introduced to my spirit but land up getting introduced to the demons in my head.

Their naked bodies creep in my bed smelling of another woman’s stench.

They, fondle my breasts,
And I effortlessly part my legs
Like the red sea spread for Moses
With each deep stroke leaving my sheets a bloody mess…

Their patience for me,
Proportionally inverse to their dick size.
And…
After the hot sex,
Their emotions for me evaporate faster than the sweat in between our fully satisfied bodies.

Situation left sticky…

So heavily drenched in lonely that they don’t even bother to hold me…
Scared that my loneliness might linger on the follicles of their skin.

Fuck bitch! i’ll call you back in 2 minutes
wounded up being a few weeks,

Mind heavily impregnated,
Fueled with a million assumptions & insecurities …
Because they forever make my body a vessel that makes them come, & at times on my face,

But won’t be around when the bitter tears race, like my tears are some sort of kryptonite to their manhood…

They’ll never know the million scars that hide the very pain I scratch in their back.

When they come back,
They bite my lip so hard,
And suck out the bitter taste they left lingering on my lips from the last time.

I’m so damaged, that I’ll probably only be able to recognize my own reflection when the broken piece of the mirror is used to draw lines that satisfy my addiction.

The voices in me don’t sound like me anymore, they sound more like demons, demons that sound like them.

At this point,
My body is well acquainted with every position in the karma sutra,

We don’t even bother with foreplay, because I’m already wet,

Then I hear a careless whisper

“baby girl, this doesn’t suit ya”

Thing is, I’m not doing this to look good, I do this to feel good…

All I ever wanted, was to be more than a wounded 2nd option

I heard
“time heals all”
But what do I do when every day it feels like the hands on my clock also suffer,
But with arthritis,
Barely moving…

See, I’ve been looking for God EVERYWHERE,
everywhere but the bible,

Trying to figure out a lil better about this thing called man…

Because Adam was easily manipulated by Eve,
But all my pussy power can do is manipulate men to leave.

They pulled me from their chest, put an apple in my hand & blame me for their mess…

I lay in bed crying for invisibility because when I look up, the reflection I see of myself, is the god in him…

I know that the story ends in sin…

Many lifeless bodies who could have been lawyers, doctors, pro athletes lay breathless suffocated in latex on the pile of tissues left in my bin…

Pornography Addiction

800 Recovery Hub Blog

The term “pornography addiction” always gets a  raised eyebrow reaction. But, what make it so addictive? Why should it matter? People are free to have their own interests. That’s true, but viewing pornography can mess with your brain in the same way drugs do. And, just like drugs and alcohol a little can be ok (sometimes even beneficial) but “too much” can cause problems.

Whether you’re taking drugs or viewing pornography the addiction process is the same.

Here are three things that happen when a person suffers from an addiction:

  1. Chemical – you over-expose the brain with pleasure chemicals like dopamine, serotonin, oxytocin and epinephrine
  2. Re-wiring – your brain changes to accommodate the extra chemicals
  3. Dependency – You build a tolerance and a dependency to the chemicals. You go from “wanting” the pleasure chemicals in order to feel good to “needing” them.

This happens in the frontal lobes: The area of your brain…

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