Is This Really The End? (part 6)

No joy comes from being the other woman.
Lust will never be enough to sustain you.

LaurakinsTrain

You beg and plead. I even have you on your knees But that won’t change my mind. She needs to know EVERYTHING!!

You get angry. A volcano of emotions explode all over your body. Trying to scare me with your Hulk like anger. Baby you wouldn’t even harm a fly. What makes you think you would lay a hand on me?

[Remember when you’d strut around like a god? When the world was at your feet and what you desired, you got. Your gloating to your homies- you got them both. Puny god…]

You gather your stuff and leave like a wounded puppy.

I’m left alone with my thoughts. I’m ready to tell. I want her to know about our sins and secrets. This heavy load on my shoulders is weighing me down. Am I ready to ruin our friendship? I’m not ready to cast dark clouds over HER happy…

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One Night Stand

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I am incapable of consciously
giving up a piece of myself for temporary pleasure or enjoyment.
I would kick myself at the thought of him having not earned it.
I am aware that I may become a little bit more friendly and flirtatious under the influence of alcohol.
I may even indicate signs of getting lucky, but I NEVER give it up.
I personally feel that people lose value that way.

♥ Kamiz

Nightfall

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Played house, in the ruins of lust,
The words I can never fake, always find a way to come out.
Fully aware that the love you gave me, were just specs of dust.
I watch them fall sweetly from your lips!
And watch how your hands unashamedly caress my hips.
Oh how I love the bittersweet taste.
As I see how we’re both hanging on by a piece of thread.
A thread of our own sanity..
Mine from loneliness,
Yours from promiscuity.
Words spoken, just tokens of profanity.
Our loneliness unable to keep it’s hands to itself.
Suffering together, because shared heartbreak weakens itself.
But why pretend to trust in me?
Why show me, a supposed stranger, the inside of you arms?
Why show me the pain caused by the ones  you once loved and the scars left above your plams?
Hell is being in your arms in my dreams, and waking up alone.
Because there is nothing more deadly than being with some, but at the same time, being alone.

♥ Kamiz

Jungle Fever

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I am not your fucking fetish.
My fellow sisters, of color are NOT your fucking fetish too.
We are Not sex objects who exist only to fulfill your sexual fantasies or your  experimental porn.
I don’t accept “Yellow Fever”, “Jungle fever” or any kind of fevers you associate us woman of color with.

If you were taught that people of color are supposed to be inherently unattractive and undesirable; then maybe you’re the one with the “fever”, in fact you’re really sick with a really bad case of racisim.
Stop dehumanizing us!
We’re not here for your fucking pity party.  
We’re capable and intellectual woman.

–  In Reference To Your Sickness                          

♥ Kamiz

Words…

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I wish I could live off more meaningful things.

I wish my poetry could keep me warm at night.

I wish I didn’t need people like I usually do.

It would be so great if metaphors talked back,

Or similies could hold deep conversations

During midnight hours,

Till 4am,

When my mind finally agrees to rest.

If words had a chest,

I would lay my head on it,

And use it as a place where I can rest my insecurities.

If I could cry on Word’s broad shoulders…

I would cry away the pain that love has caused me,

I would cry until my heart spills out and lands up on its sleeve.

I wouldn’t have to worry about unanswered calls or unread texts,

Because,

Becacuse words truly speak to me.

I know, even when I don’t write in a long time,

My loyalty will never have to be questioned.

Because my love for Words is deeper than human relations,

I have a supernatural connection.

Even in sickness,

I would be restored to life,

Because even when Words aren’t around,

Their presence resignates deeply in me,

That I feel them inside.

♥ Kamiz