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 makeup 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 into 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.

So damaged, that I’ll probably only be able to recognize my own reflection with the broken piece of the mirror 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 whispers…

“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 the notion 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…

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Sober

Soon as the liquor dissolves on my tongue,
I am unable to control myself.
I only want you.
Like you are the only thing buried at the bottom of a bottle.

I’m too far from sober to want you in any other way.
In the sea of alcohol,
It is only you that I remember clearly.

I can’t rinse the bitter taste of you on my tongue.
Your taste lingers long after I’ve stopped being consumed by you.
And I’m dying to feel the tenderness of being sober, again.

I wake, in a bed, that is remote to mine.
Laying beside you,
Fully aware that you’re not mine.
How is that you don’t stop me,
When you are the one with the sober mind.

In the temporary heat of passion, 
You make bad decisions look good.
And in the aim of forgetting your name,
I only manage to forget my own.

Waiting until the night falls,
To crack a bottle of wine,
Is an easily attainable goal,
When I fool myself into believing that, 
Tonight, I won’t think about you.
Instead,
I will take all day to recover from the hell I put my body through the previous night.

And one day,
I’ll mean absolutely nothing to you,
And you will make me feel it in the midst of my unsoberness.
I will pour all the remaining pieces of my heart in a text, and you won’t even reply.

F 4 u – fela ella

I just wanted you that one time. That that one stroke

That one night.

That last kiss, that last cuddle. 

You’re trying to talk about how much you want me forever but my eyes roll and I scream for you to touch me there..

I know I won’t want you later or care for your feelings. 

I never have, never fucking will..

Just keep me company, hold me while I dig into you.

lust for me like you love me, then leave me without your name. 

Your confessions of love make me sick.

I don’t want you, I just want him, his tenderness his negativity his everything. 

I’m fucked up and you don’t even realise. My arms hurt from the slicing, my lungs hurt from the smoking. 

My heart aches to hear your voice again, so that you can tell me that you love me.

and I’ll lie and tell you that “I love you too.”

Fela Ella

♥ Kamiz

Cock Tease

I sit here and wonder why I am still single
I mean,
I’m a hopeless romantic,
With a slightly dirty mind,
Reasonably high standards,

Yet…

I’m still single.

Okay so, I recently went on a date,
And between the Mixed Berry Mojito and Nachos
My date managed to slip in a “Non-Offensive” comment which I almost chocked on actually,
‘Til I spat it out and chewed on it later that evening.

I could say a lot of things,
But in short, he called me a Cock Tease,
at that moment….
A part of me believed that I was.

Now according to the Urban Dictionary,

A Cock Tease means:

” a girl that leads a guy to believe that she’s going to have sex with him, then doesn’t.” 

But because I thirst for knowledge,
I continued reading…

Words like tease, slut, whore, skank, and tramp along…

No see, I really do not agree with those.

I am sitting trying to understand how not having sex with a guy automatically qualifies you to be a slut or whore.
But that’s a topic for another day.

Growning up,
I always found it rude when females would dismiss males,
Before they could even conclude their introduction.

I always wondered why they’d assume every guy wanted to get in their pants, before the poor guys could even state their intention.

See, when given a chance to do so,
Some males choke up in their “star struck” phase and aren’t even able to tell you their first name.
Others display a thousand reasons why we refer to males as dogs, or prove that wolves truly do come I sheep skin.
And others, well lets say, mom’s would be proud.

Now when a girl or woman is fully aware of the power she possess,
Whether it be in her face, her head, her curves, under her skirt or the way she flips her hair.
She will somehow take advantage of it.
Where it’s a mechanism to boost her self confidence that many believe she may already possess.
Or she’ll use her body and sexual organs to obtain materialistic things.

I get it, I’m a lil off topic
Let me just draw this closer to home…

Back to me,
Kamiz, the Cock Tease.
it doesn’t even rhyme…

Anyway,

I cannot help but think of all the times my “friendliness” had been taken out of context,
and occasionally gotten me into trouble.

See, when you engage some guys with a perfectly normal conversation, they tend to believe that you may interested, and that’s because many females barely do this.

From this, I found myself in many awkward situations, and telling guys off isn’t one of my strongest traits.

Now see,
I’ve always been taught to see the best in people…
Being Kind
Being loving
And compassionate.

So in many cases, I find myself unintentionally stringing a lot guys on.
And on good days my solar powered confidence my be perceived as sexiness.

I’ll admit,
Growning up, I wasn’t the most confident of beings
If anything, I found my confidence last year, in the mist of my independence.
And before then,
I’ll admit,
My confidence was powered by the heat of the passion ignited by the attention I’d receive from males at the verge of splitting my legs like Moses did the red sea, and just when feel I had received enough affirmation, I’d stop.
Yes this is the type of behaviour portrayed by a cock tease.

But now, I could really care less, because in the mist of pure, innocent confidence self love is a crucial factor.
I am no longer in pursuit of validation or affirmation.

I refuse to take responsibility for males reading my friendliness as an invitation of interest to engage in any form of sexual activity.

My Verdict:

I am Not A Cock Tease!

Over the years

For me, it doesn’t make sense to still entertain the same bullshit from boys, I once did, when my chest was freshly stung by bees.

I have learned that, the holding of a hand means nothing but two different fingerprints in really close proximity. 

I no longer fall for boys who selectively listen to the words that escape my mouth before I can even taste them… and after a few fights and lonely nights, the same words escaping their breath and echoing in my bad decisions.

And if I could get any financial incentive for every Penis Being on this earth that has sent me a crappy, cold but warm seeming “I miss you” text, on every single social network I have been on, since I owned a phone, I would have accumulated enough funds to secure a three course meal for every hungry child, in my mother land, on my most loneliest night.  

It is through my sisters, that I have learned that a happy bed, doesn’t make up for a happy home.

It’s crazy how the pursuit of one* organ can completely shut down all other bodily functions…

Before you know it.

You cannot eat.

You cannot breathe.

You cannot sleep.

You cannot think.

And without these,

You cannot be yourself.

And that girl you vowed to never be.

You take every living fibre of her DNA…

You can no longer tell the two of you apart.

and he’s just happy, that it is a twisted form of a threesome.

Daddy Issues

Why do you teach these boys to impregnate us and leave, and
Bow down on their knees to pale white feet, like they can’t even stand us?

If you’re lucky enough to have one be a part of your life. You get handed a undeserved proclaimed title of “Crazy Baby Momma”.

They place their chocolate dipped Moms on Golden pedestals.
Forgetting that they too may have gone through the same stuggles, but they were’t around to see it.

Dads’ absence, in their lives made their Moms stronger.
All they see in their mothers, are feet that have been firmly planted on the ground.
But when it comes to their Baby Mommas, all they sees is a storm with skin on.
Just Damage.
Little did they know that she is damaged.
Little did they know that they caused the damage.

But they don’t get it.

They use every opportunity they can get to slander her and her sisters.
Crazy stupid bitches. Dark. Ugly.
Then puts their chocolate dipped daughters on the same golden pedestal they put their mothers on.

I don’t get it.

♥ Kamiz