Scandalous…A Poem

– Scandalous…A Poem –

Lower me down

Into blankets of silk

Skin to skin

Cradle me close, lover of mine

Bathe me in sin

Over and over, and then over again

Tell me you love me

With feeling this time, like you actually do

And maybe, just maybe I’ll believe it, too

Your touch, such a frenzied-yet beautiful thing

Your whispered promises carry in the wind

The gentlest of caresses against my skin

Pull me in closer, do it again

Just like that

Baby, that’s the spot

A parry, a thrust

The time-old connection where soft meets hard

Your ragged breath against my neck

With you, I’m at my weakest

If it weren’t for the lingering remnants of my pride

I’d beg you to please show me some mercy.

My guard goes down, the façade is gone

In your arms, I’m lost.

Our bodies, they glisten with a most decadent sheen

The aftermath glow of a mutually satisfied,

yet purely self-serving need.

After, when we part,

The vow we make is always the same.

We try our best to hold out; to be strong

But to the world, we’re just pawns

In this hopelessly futile, self-deprecating game.

The world tells us lies

And we console ourselves with the idea that we have time.

Thinking we have more.

When in truth, we have nothing of the kind.

We’re been betrayed

Deceived by fantasies and fabricated facts

Happily-Ever-After doesn’t exist

True love is a lie

It’s a hard pill to swallow

Believe me, I know

It was hard for me, at first, too

To let it all go

But fantasies fade

And sometimes love dies, never was, or just needs to change—

For everyone’s sake.

So with baited breath, we wait.

We glide through life

Believing everything is meant to be

See and do things we aren’t meant to do or see

Until we see the light, slip on life’s black ice

We fall through the cracks

We fall so hard, we fall so deep

We’re not nearly as invincible as we might like to think

You and me

We’re walking vulnerability

Beach sand formed to fragile glass

We heat until we break

Then shatter what’s around us

Hurt the ones we claim to love

We’re flawed, we make mistakes

Just as children starting out so often do

We falter in our steps

We skin our knees, we bleed

It’s what we do

After all, we’re only human,

You and me.

– JLR –

2.21.2016

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Small Town … a poem

Small Town… A Poem

 

She can hear them some nights

Whispered voices in her dreams

“Little Girl, you’ll never make it

The big city’s not for you,

This small-town is IT for you.

You’re being foolish, unrealistic

It’s time to grow up,

Time to face the facts

Get your head out of the clouds;

Come on now, come on down.

Child, haven’t you figured out by now —

There’s only one ticket out of this town

And it’s a 6 foot hole in the ground, an unmarked pine box

And a forever residence in that old cemetery by St. Mary’s,

That old Church where come every Sunday,

all the townsfolk gather ‘round.

Whispered voices, trying to convince her.

Oh, all the times and how absolutely they tried.

And how she’d cover her ears so mute their voices,

And ignore them every time.

She couldn’t just take them at their word,

She had to find out for her.

She knew somehow that there was more to life,

Beyond those empty, small-town streets.

Things that she just had to see.

It was her story to write.

Her words, on her own terms,

In her OWN way.

And she vowed she’d write it someday.

It took some doing, it took some time.

But someday finally came.

Though with it came a heavy price to pay.

In making her own way,

She had to sacrifice so much along the way.

Her family, her friends.

Her sense of self; her pride.

She learned how to lie;

How to keep the pain so carefully bottled up inside.

She became an expert at not letting them see her cry.

She realized the futility in asking why,

She learned how useless it was to even try.

When it was time for her to go,

She forwent the sentiments and the goodbyes.

She turned, walked away, and didn’t look back.

To the edge of town, ‘til her feet bled,

she walked and walked.

Then she fought, oh how she fought.

She scratched and she clawed.

She got out of that godforsaken town.

Now the joke is on them.

And the satisfaction is hers.

Just a small-town girl with her head-in-the-clouds,

Too afraid to come down.

That’s what they called her.

That’s what they said.

But they misjudged her all along.

She was stronger, more determined,

more capable than they thought.

They said she’d never make it.

So she made it her mission to prove them ALL wrong.

Now look at what she’s got.

A mansion in the hills.

A shiny Porsche in the drive.

Beautiful baby in her arms.

A loving man by her side.

Her name on a star,

Down on Hollywood Boulevard.

For a small-town girl,

Never expected to make it very far.

She’s made quite the life for herself.

Superstar status.

Yeah, she sure has it all.

 

JLR

2/16/2016

 

Water’s Thicker…

I know they say that you can’t pick your family…but seriously if you could, I’m telling you–I’d be that “camped-out-all-night-in-a-tent-like-its-Black-Friday-just-to-be-first-in-line-at-the-register” shopper. Literally. And maybe that’s a horrible thing to say…but if you knew my family–hell, if you’d dealt with what I’ve had to deal with the past 28-and-some-change years–then you’d understand. I know you would. Honestly, if it weren’t for the kids–my nieces and nephews–I’d have burned these bridges with the lot of them years ago. I really would have…


 

Starting with my grandmother. You know, it’s actually ironic because growing up, she was the one I looked up to most. I had the utmost respect for her. She was the strongest, bravest, greatest woman I knew. She raised me and my siblings like we were her own and she was always the one person we could count on no matter what. For the longest time, she was this hero (or heroine, if we’re being politically correct) to me. A mother figure that stepped in when my mother was more concerned with pleasing the not-so kid-friendly men in her life than she was with really being a mother to my sister, brother, and myself. In a way, I saw her as our savior, you know? But then I grew up. And as I did, those rose-colored glasses started to come off and little by little. And as they did, I started to see her and the whole situation in a different light. And I realized something. And to this day, I can’t help but wonder how much of her stepping in to raise us was actually about her trying to give us stability and love–and how much of it was about her trying to take control.


She’s a control freak. It’s like she gets off on it or something, I don’t know. Time and time again, I’ve watched her do it–step in and take control. She did it with my siblings and I. Then with my oldest niece, Angelina. The same with both of my younger nieces, Emma and Ava. Until you reach a certain age, that is. Everything’s great and she’s happy, so long as you’re under her thumb and you do what she says. But once you get older and start to pull up away and get a mind of your own–god forbid you have an opinion that challenges her–well, then you get to meet her “Mr. Hyde” personality. Of course, I was the good girl in high school–straight-A’s, never caused or got into any trouble–so she and I didn’t really butt heads all that often. Of course, she (along with my mother) was also a little preoccupied with taking my brother and niece’s mother to family court to petition for–and ultimately winning–custody of my oldest niece…so our paths didn’t really cross much. That is, until I’d voice my opinion on something–ANYTHING really–having to do with my niece or “put my 2 cents in”–as she likes to put it. Then the control freak would materialize and snap back with some bitchy response of how it was “none of my business” or how, since I wasn’t the one with custody, I had “no say” in matters whatsoever concerning my niece. Oh yeah. Grandmother or not, you have no idea how often I was tempted to put that woman in her place–so damn bad. Granted, my name wasn’t on those custody papers alongside hers or my mother’s…but how quickly she’d forget that it wasn’t just her that had a hand in taking care of my niece–though she loves to act as though that was the case. I was just 16 years old when my niece, Angelina was born. My brother was in jail at the time and Angelina’s mother lived with her father way on the outskirts of town in the middle of nowhere, so my mother and grams offered to let her and Angelina move in with us when Angelina was just a month old. My brother got out of jail shortly there-after and let’s just say that he and Lena’s mother were more interested in having a good time than they were in being parents. They’d leave Lena with us for days while they went partying and took off. If you said anything to them about it or pissed them off, they’d pack their stuff and Lena’s, say they were moving out, and they’d take off with her. They’d always come back. Sometimes they’d be gone a few days…maybe a week. Maybe two weeks. You never knew with them. You didn’t know where they were or where Lena was or WHO she was with or if she was okay. After months of that bullshit, they went to court and won custody. She was 6 months old. My grandmother had a job working 2nd shift, which meant that I was the only one with Lena from the time I got home from school until my mother got home from work, and then the two of us had her until it was time for her to go to bed. Again–let me point out that I was 16. While everyone else my age was hanging/going out with friends, going to parties, experimenting with typical 16-year-old things–I was home playing peek-a-boo and warming up bottles and watching Elmo Goes To Grouchland for the 1,607,982,298th time. When Lena was fussy during the night, I was usually the first to hear and get up with her, since my room was across the hall and closest to hers. When she was colicky and teething and just utterly inconsolable one night no matter what we tried, my mother and I took turns walking back and forth across the attic floor with her for hours. My grandmother is quick to discount all that, but I haven’t forgotten it. She can say what she wants, but I was there. All those baby milestones. Her first steps, first words. Family outings. First days of school. Soccer games, volleyball games, talent shows, concerts, recitals…everything. I’ve been there. My name may not be on that damn piece of paper, but my opinion should damn well carry just as much weight as anyone’s–even hers–and my niece damn well IS my business. Whether my grams likes it or not…SHE IS.


For the most part, these days anyhow–my grams asserting her “custody/ownership” rights in regards to Lena–has been a non-issue. Not because she’s seen the error her ways, unfortunately. It’s my niece herself, actually. She’s 12 going on 30. She’s got an attitude, that one…and a mind all her own. A fact of which my grandmother, of course, loathes. She’s brazen and she’ll talk back and she doesn’t always do what she’s told right when she’s told to do it–and so my grandmother is always griping on her for that. She’ll bitch and say it’s because Angelina’s a spoiled brat or mouthy or that’s she’s lazy and doesn’t do anything…but it all boils down to one simple fact–Angelina’s no longer under her control. And she can’t stand it. So as is her typical fashion–Angelina’s now the enemy. She’s 12. Yeah. Tell me how fucked that is.


With my other two nieces, Emma and Ava, it’s the same thing. Especially Emma, who’s 10–but is Special Needs and has a lot of physical, emotional, and developmental delays. Granted the girls’ mother has been MIA most of their lives in nearly every maternal way possible and my grandmother’s been their primary caregiver and all–but it’s more than that. She controls the who, what, where, why–and every aspect of their lives. You’re barred from having any opinion or say so in where they are regarded. Yet again, she’s under the assumption that she’s the only one that’s been present in their lives. And that she’s the only one that cares about them. Both of which are grossly false. And I’m getting damn near tired of her insinuating as much.


Her whole ego and control shit with the kids is frustrating, yes…but old news. There’s no point in arguing or debating the semantics with her. You’re just wasting your breath. So long as she’s got a baby or kid to control–she’s peachy keen. And at the rate people in my damn family keep popping out kids and handing them over to her to raise, she’s not going to be running out of ones to control any time soon. When she does start her crap, I ignore her. Sometimes if I can’t hold my tongue–I’ll tell her off. She doesn’t like it–but that’s just too damn bad. The woman acts like she’s fucking Hitler. It’s ridiculous.


What really gets me though is that she has no loyalty whatsoever. She really doesn’t. And that’s the deal-breaker for me. She really pisses me off. When I left for Tennessee she was all tears and “you can always come home” and then when I was down there, she kept asking me when I was going to quit my foolishness of running wild and my gypsy ways and come back to New York. All the time she asked me that. The problem with that however, is that New York isn’t “HOME” anymore. And a lot of that is due to her. Directly. She has no regard for my feelings whatsoever and has shown nothing but blatant disrespect for my wishes since I’ve been back. And she’s done so by association with my bitch of an Aunt Faith and her junkie C-U-Next-Tuesday daughter, Jennifer (my cousin)–both of whom I, without an ounce of remorse–LOATHE. It’s no secret that I’ve hated those two for years. My aunt because she’s been jealous of my siblings and I our entire lives for the fact that my grandmother showed us more attention that she did to my aunt’s children, and as a result, we’ve had to deal with the resentment and a forced competition of sorts with her kids when we were growing up. Like her, they always acted like who they were–and like the world owed them something…like they were better than the rest of us…and that’s her doing. They learned it from her. And now their kids are the same way with my nieces and nephews. And I can’t stand it. What really cemented the cutting of all ties though were that bitch Jennifer’s actions some 7 or so years back. I won’t bore you with details, but long story short, she got jealous that things were going well for me–great job, new ride, new apartment, going back to school. Whereas she was broke, living with her mother, had just had another kid with a 2nd baby daddy who broke up with her and got himself a wife and new baby out in California. She couldn’t have that so the conniving bitch that she is, she decided to fuck things up for me. One thing led to another and she ultimately did a kick ass job of screwing up the really going thing I had going for myself. And she did it for no other reason than because she was jealous. And because she could. She’s a fucking bitch. And the betrayal was so much worse for the fact that I was the one that had had her back the entire time–had been her shoulder to cry on after the break-up, had taken her out with my friends to get her mind off everything. I did so much for her and she stabbed me in the back. And then, even after I confronted her with proof of what she’d done, she had the nerve to deny it. Her mother, of course, believed her. And to this day, still defends her. Like mother, like daughter. That bitch Jennifer though, she eventually got jammed up–and my mother just happened to be in court for something with my brother when Jennifer had an appearance for a bail hearing or something of the sort. Months before the bitch had cornered me in Wal-Mart when I was with my niece and got in my face, so I’d filed a complaint with the cops. It was on record so when the judge brought it up and used it as a reason to deny to release, I guess the bitch turned right around and looked at mother and then–right in open court–said that she was going to kill me. Yep. She’s a junkie, a bitch, and a fucking idiot. A real trifecta, that one. So yeah…all that, and yet my grandmother can’t even show me the courtesy of telling them to stay away while I’m downstairs, knowing full well that I can’t even stand the sight of them, Jennifer especially. If I have to hear her tell me one more time to “get over myself”, I swear to God I just might lose it. I don’t care if it’s been 7 years or 17 years. I can’t stand those bitches and I don’t give a damn if they’re family. As far as I’m concerned, they aren’t. They made that choice when they did what they did. I could honestly give a rat’s ass what the hell happens to them. And she might choose to associate with them–the two-faced bitch that she is–but that doesn’t mean I should have to. And yeah, that might be her daughter and her granddaughter and her house, but it’s also my mother’s house and I’m a guest of my mother’s while I’m here in New York. And my grandmother, she’s the biggest hypocrite of them all. She’s held a grudge against my uncle Joey’s wife Kathy for almost 3 decades now and I know damn well that if the woman showed up, hell would have no fury. So fuck that. And fuck her.


Tonight she let that bitch and her daughter come over. Of course, I had a few choice words for Jennifer when she walked outside and I was on the porch–to which she ran back inside and told on me. Pathetic. My mother, of course, came out and “scolded” me for using such foul language. Bitch, please. I’m 28 years old. As far as I know, this is still a free country and freedom of speech is still in the 1st Amendment. I can say what I want, to whom I want. And all I spoke was the truth. I won’t apologize for that. I shouldn’t have to. That my grandmother got all up in arms about it and sent my mother out to yell at me just cemented what I’d already come to terms with…I’m done. Done with her. Just done. I’m so sick of her not having a loyal bone in her body. Well, that’s not entirely true. She’s loyal to those two bitches, just not to me. She says that’s not true, but it is. And I’m done. She made her choice.


I thought I’d be sad. But I’m not. Honestly, I just feel relieved to finally be done with her bullshit. I used to idolize her. But the woman that I thought she was–that woman is long gone. And the one that’s left in her place–I don’t know her. And I sure as hell don’t respect her. And without respect, what else is there, really…

xoMESSIE

 

#SayNoToTrump

Okay, so I’m not usually one for politics, but in light of recent political events—hell, this entire election year, I should say—I think I’m going to make an exception….so let my first (and hopefully last) political rant on here commence…


Soooo for those of you that aren’t yet aware, Donald Trump won the New Hampshire Primaries tonight for the Republican Party. Yep, Donald Trump—the Ass-hat leading candidate for President who thinks he’s going to “Make America great again” by

  • Overturning Obama Care— which don’t get me wrong, the program does have its flaws (what program doesn’t) but it’s also the reason why millions of Americans who were previously uninsured now have affordable health care coverage. People can bitch about its faults and loopholes, but they can’t just dismiss its successes, or the legitimate premise it was founded upon. It’s not a perfect system, not by a long shot, but it’s something. It’s a step towards something. I mean, it’d be great if the U.S. would follow in the footsteps of other countries that have taken the initiative with healthcare reform to the extent that healthcare is a free and available resource to all citizens no matter what the circumstances…but I don’t see that happening any time soon. And instead of Trump praising Obama for taking the initiative that he did, or promising to evolve on that initiative, he’d rather criticize and condemn Obama and the program AND essentially start writing checks on the taxpayers’ dime and putting the country into more debt before he’s even officially in office or hell—even the official leading contender for the political party. I mean, it’s easy for him to say. He’s got millions already. It’s not like he’s going to be the one scrambling around to find affordable health coverage for him and his family or having to work two jobs just to afford the insurance premiums and cut that’s taken out of his paycheck and what he brings home each week.

** 

  • Declaring War On Islam – This declaration, to me, by Trump—is just plain dumb. Not to mention completely reckless. I mean, the guy clearly has no ounce of common sense in that tiny pea-sized little brain of his. It’s one thing to take a stance against violence and terrorism. ISIS—they’re scary. They have a far reach—probably further than we’ll ever know—and they need to be stopped. Hell, I’m an American. I remember 9/11. I know what this country has lost because of radical Islamists and terrorist cells like ISIS and Al Qaeda. I haven’t forgotten. But it’s just that. Radical Islamists. The few, not the entirety. Not all Muslims are terrorists. So this plan of Trump’s to essentially round up all the Muslims in the U.S., give them ID cards so we can keep track of them at all times, and to restrict all traffic/people coming in and out of Islamic countries…really? Pardon the language…but are you fucking kidding me, Trump? I mean, seriously? For starters…this is America. Whatever happened to the first amendment and the freedom of religion? The fact that a presidential candidate would even build his campaign around an idea that directly violates and snubs the Constitution of the United States of America is absolutely ludicrous—and that he’s being allowed to continue to run and seriously being considered—that’s just irreprehensible to me. It’s sickening that there are so many people that are actually supporting him, particularly on this part of his campaign. This whole ID-card thing—what is this, Hitler’s Germany and the Jews? It’s bullshit. These Muslims he wants to keep track of—many of them are actual U.S. citizens—doctors, teachers, soldiers—our neighbors and friends—no more a terrorist than you or I. Completely innocent. Yet to Trump, they might as well be criminals–their only crime being that they happen to be Muslim, of course. Sure, will cutting down access into the country stop some would-be terrorists from getting in? Maybe. Probably. But let’s not fool ourselves. They’re already here. Enough of them, anyhow. Terrorist and sleeper cells that we don’t even know about yet. Do people really think that ISIS and these radicals are just going to go away or lay dormant simply because Trump thinks they will or tells them to? What do they think ISIS and countries that already hate our country are going to think if the leader of it basically snubs his nose at them and tells them in the proverbial to “fuck off”? We have enough countries that hate us already. Why make more enemies for ourselves? If you ask me, Trump’s on an ego trip. He thinks that because he’s “Donald Trump” that he’s untouchable. And he’s got enough money to buy that security. But the rest of us—we don’t stand a chance. Mark my words—if Trump becomes President—we’re done for. I hate to say it—I really do—but if we thought 9/11 was bad—we’re going to be in for a comeuppance of catastrophic proportions. I just know it. It’s common sense. 

**

  • Ending The Drug Problem In The U.S. By TELLING Mexico To Build A Border Wall— I gotta say, this one is my personal favorite. 🙂 Trump thinking Mexico is going to just build some wall—and screw themselves out of all that business they’re making from the drugs they’re sending over—just because some dumb ass who has millions but can’t be bothered to do anything about that whacked out hair of his TELLS them to? Yeah. I’d LOOOOOVEEE to see that happen.

As you can probably surmise, I’m no fan of Donald Trump’s. Nope. He’s not a politician. If he wins this elections it’s because a.) Money will get you pretty far in this country—it might even buy you a presidency, and b.) Because there’s a hell of a lot more dumb ass sheep in this country than I thought. I wouldn’t trust that Ass-Hat to walk my dog…and he wants to be the President of the United States? “Make America great again”? Bullshit. He wants to run America into the ground. He gets elected and that’s exactly what’s going to happen.


 

My vote this election is with Hilary. And not just because she’s a woman. That’s part of it, sure. There’s no denying it’d be a coup for women’s rights if she gets elected. It’s more than that though. She’s got the experience…and it doesn’t hurt that she’s got a former-President for a spouse. People—MEN mostly—like to say that because she’s a woman she can’t handle the stress of running a country—and I call bullshit on that. Women are just as capable—if not more so—than men. And it’s about damn time BOTH genders get that through their heads and just shut the fuck up about it already. As for that whole Benghazi and the emails and whatever—yeah, she lied. Yep. If anything, that just cements her political character even more. Politicians are born liars. Why should she be any different? And as for that whole thing—I think people need to get over it. It’s over, it’s done. Move the fuck on, people. Focus on the fact that people are homeless and dying every day in our country. That our resources are drying up and we’re destroying the earth for future generations. That unarmed adults and children are being gunned down in cold blood by our nation’s finest because of the color of their skin. Focus on things that matter, not things that don’t. Of all the candidates, I think Hilary does that best. She’s focuses on the issues. Is she making promises that she might not be able to follow through on—sure. All the candidates are making those promises.


But when it comes down to it—when it’s a choice between an Ass-hat, egotistical, media-seeking clown like Donald Trump, Bernie Sanders who pretty much has one foot in the grave already, and Hilary Clinton—I choose Hilary. Every time. Still, Heaven help us all come November because from the looks of it…this election could go either way.


Anyhow…rant over…

xoMESSIE

 

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