Shades of Blue

Think of me in shades of blue

Lonely, sad and cobalt blue

Vibrant, soft and baby blue

Smiling, laughing and violet blue


Think of me in shades of blue

Purple, navy and feeling new

Alive and breathing

slowly seeing… the realities of you….


Think of me in shades of blue…

Wanting, loving, missing you

Moving swiftly away from you…

Yearning, pining, falling for you…


….in lovely, beautiful shades of blue..



Bad Intentions

I had no intention on liking you. My intent was to go out with you, have an ok time with you and keep it moving, away from you. I didn’t expect to have fun with you, laugh with you, have decent conversation with you or leave smiling because of you.. This was not my intent.. I broke my own rules for you. Rule #1: no small kids. Rule #2: No second chances… Broke em both for you.. You stood me up or waited too late.. either way we didn’t go out as planned initially… Had I followed my own rules, I wouldn’t be writing this now… You wouldn’t be reading this now. I couldn’t have recited this now. But you did it, round of applause for you. You’ve accomplished whatever goal you set out to do and I applaud you. I, on the other .hand, am left dangling without you.. I knew I fucked up when I slept with you. I thought it was right.. thought our vibe was cool.. thought we were cool.. thought I was safe with you.. However, as I left that morning, I felt our vibe shift, our world shifted. I knew that would be the last of anything between us, would be the last of everything between us.. I knew then we were through.. But you proved me wrong, showed me up, you called, reached out even tho it felt, off. You continued to reach out with no real effort to link up… You already left.. So your sudden departure shouldn’t have thrown me, yet, it did. It threw me for a loop, put a monkey wrench in my program, threw shit in my game.. But it’s cool.. I dig where you are, who and what you are… It’s not you, it’s me.. Well.. it’s not me, it is you.. or us.. or we.. or nah..




Maybe twenty years ago,  his swag,  his baggy clothes,  du-rag, rough talk,  nothing to offer but dick would have intrigued me.. would have excited me… would have made me think I was lucky to run up on this man. ..Shit, 20 years ago, I would have been up for the fight. .up for the challenge of making him over to what I needed and wanted. .up for the disappointment I knew would soon follow and up for the walking away,  only to find the next one,  doing the same,  being the same and looking the same. .. But this ain’t then,  this is now and I’m tired..
Tired of the same bullshit. .. tired of the lies,  the half truths,  the hidden agendas,  the promises without follow thru and the sex…. I’m actually tired of sex… tired of the meaningless,  no emotion,  going thru the motions,  wondering how did I get here, when will he appear, not getting off, sex…
Today,  I’m ending my relationship with casual sex . I’m putting that muthafukka on notice. I’m letting her know,  I’m over it. Pass it and clearly through with it. . I’m focused.  Focused on him… focused on my future…..
Well, I got derailed a bit.. This guy was talking some off the wall stuff that I had to try… he said he wanted me to make him my slave. .. Whaaa…. lemme try that!! Turns out, I’m not built for the dominatrix lifestyle and sticking my finger in a man’s ass while calling him a bitch doesn’t do it for me; so, Im back to square one – saying no to casual sex…

Daydreaming… (Naughty thoughts)

Laying on my back, panting… Staring at him with incredulous eyes…. How can he make me do the things I do? My body betrays me every time..
My phone rang three hours ago… When I answered, a deep baritone voice says, on my way… I get ready…. I light candles from my front door to my bedroom….. I grab a bowl of strawberries and the whipped cream.. I place them on the o
night stand next to the four vanilla scented candles…. lights off, air conditioning blowing on high. He will not sweat out my perm this time… yeah, right! This man is a beast and I love it.. In the shower, I start daydreaming about our last session… He came over, ate my pussy for over an hour.. Slowly torturing me… Bringing me close to orgasm and then changing the pace..ugh! Driving me crazy… He would nibble on my lips.. Suck on my clit, stick his tongue in my pussy.. then his fingers over and, slow… hard… deep… rubbing my G-spot until my bed sheets were soaked… Then he stuck his beautiful thick dick inside me… Very, very slowly…. He pushes it in so deep, I gasped….. I came so many times, I’m not even sure he came once.. Before I know it, my finger is in me… I deem is his finger on and out, in and out.. oooo…. oooh…. My eyes fly open and I remember he’s on his way.. Shit! I’m about to start my own session without him… I rinse off quickly.. Step out the shower dripping wet – in more places than one – and apply shea butter and baby oil gel all over me… Pat myself dry…. Throw on a barely there, barely covering anything robe and wait for my date with destiny….



Hey you…

Sorry to be a drag but my minds on you, wondering about you.. if you’re too good to true… The word you speak sound like music to me, almost melodic in pitch and sing-songy in tone..almost perfect to heart and mind..
Hey you..Sorry to drag this out but I feel different with you.. Too high, too far gone with you.. I didn’t want this to happen..not yet… I wanted to move at a steady pace..but I feel it spiraling outta control.. my heart is racing to you, toward you at an uncontrollable rate…trying to slow it down, need to slow it down and my mind isn’t helping..Showing me images of what could be, what I would like to be…what I dreamed it to be…. hate this feeling….of being 15 again and not knowing the outcome….for the good or for the end… Not knowing the facts, the answers or the desired destination… of love or naught…. of hate or trust…. of you..of me…of we…. fuck it, of us…….


An Us Thang

Sitting here thinking about you…
about the time I spend with you..
about the possibilities with you..
About loving you
About the times when I don’t see you
Or when I’m not with you
Or when I’m not WITH you
Or when I can’t see you
But I yearn to be with you
Beside you
Close to you
Around you
Feeling the vibe of you
You know,
I get jealous of the people around you because they get to see you, talk with you, laugh with you, feel the vibe from you..
I kinda wish we were past this stage and we were more…
More like a couple
More on solid ground
A solid foundation
Moving swiftly toward
A more solid foundation
Moving toward
A deeper connection
Moving toward
More than physical
More like mental
Moving toward
A oneness
An openness
A completeness
An us in this
Can you dig it?


The Journey

If I was writing this the traditional way, my tears would stain the paper. .
If I was writing this the traditional way, my handwriting would be illegible…
My pen shakey…..
My words jumbled..
They wouldn’t make any sense
Have no meaning and my sentences would run on…
If… I…
If I was writing the traditional way…
But there’s nothing traditional about me or my life..
Im going thru a journey of sorts if you will. ..
I’m being led down a rabbit hole of unknowns and I’m doing it: kicking and screaming. .
The journey is not mine…
I’m just a passenger. ..
An unenthusiatic, unprepared, unsolicited passenger. .
This journey, this ride that I’m on.. I would love to get off but I can’t.
I would love to make it stop..
But I can’t
I wanna yell, scream, shout:
Abort mission!
Abandon ship!
Cease fire!
Just. .stop..
But I can’t. .
It’s not my ride
Not my journey
Not my life
I’m just along for the ride, for the adventure..
You see, my daughter is in the process of transitioning into a man…
She’s deciding to live her life out loud, but why do I have to go with her?
Why couldn’t she live out loud, a little quieter?
A little less rumble in her jungle?
A little less fire in her cracker?
A little less pop! In her snap. ..?
Just a teeny roar….?
Don’t get it twisted…
I’m not here looking for pity or hugs…
Or quiet words of understanding….
Little nods with the hand on my arm, like Oh Girl..
Do not feel sorry for me..
Or her..
Hell, I’m proud of the kid..
I applaud the kid…
I applaud her courage, her tenacity, her audacity…Her bravery…
However things are getting a bit outta hand now…
The physical changes are afoot..
She’s getting taller, her shoulders are broadening, her waist slimming, feet growing, voice deepening and she’s growing facial hair….
But all I see is my girl…
That tiny baby girl I gave birth to… that I taught to ride a bike, to stand up to bullies, to hold her head up high, to be independent….to be happy…. My… girl…. my one and only, my everything..
my heartbeat…
If I was writing this the traditional way, my tears would stain the paper. .
My pen shakey..
My handwriting illegible…
My words jumbled…
They wouldn’t make any sense,
Have no meaning
And my sentences would run on. .
If… I…
….was writing this the traditional way…
But there’s nothing traditional about me or my life….
Or this journey…
Or this ride…
But love…..



My time away from you or trying to shut you out was to get my mind and heart right. .. well, to get you out of both, really… I don’t think you totally get how I feel about you. I know you don’t believe that I fell for you the moment you kissed me two years ago… my heart has been tethered to you ever since – most days I wish it weren’t…. Most days, I wish I could fuck you with no regard. Let’s just get it and keep it moving. I can’t. Most days I hate you and wish we never met, let alone kissed that night of our first meeting. I wish, like most of my brief dating encounters, we fizzled out after the first phone call so I wouldn’t feel what I feel now: emotions, love, loneliness, unwantedness, played and manipulated. But I did invite that, didn’t I?

I wish I could say I was doing better when I was giving you a hard time, as you put it, I wasn’t. I retreated into a cocoon…. playing it safe… not getting involved… trying to fuck with no regard… trying not to compare them to you… trying not to decide who is the biggest asshole…. trying not to think about you. ..trying not to love you but loving you from afar….. and still loving you now….

Fuck me…


An Unlikely Source

I received a phone call today from an unexpected source. I’ve never spoken to him on the phone before but he’s been in my life for a little under 25 years.  I loved his wife.  By that I mean,  she was one of the dopest women I know – definitely in my top 3. She loved me like a daughter.  Always had a kind word or a jewel for me.  Always been one of my biggest supporters and I can still hear her saying, “You go, Girl!”. whenever I had some good news to share. She showed me unconditional love, support and understanding… She was awesome.. Continue to rest in Paradise Beautiful…

So her husband calls me because I texted him as I have been doing since her passing.  The text is always short and sweet but this time he needed clarity so he called.  We talked and laughed and he, too, dropped some jewels on me. Hearing his laughter made me miss her even more, yet I laughed so hard my stomach hurt. I can see her smile and shaking her head at his stories.

They welcomed me into their family when I was dating his son. As our relationship grew so did my love and respect for her. I always wanted her to meet my mother – THE dopest woman I know. She always asked about her. Always showed respect for her – that meeting never happened… One thing I definitely regret.  She taught me things when I got on my own, what to look out for,  who to look out for and what moves I should make.  I could talk to her about any and everything, she was my diary for real. We would talk for hours. The last time I heard her voice was a month before she passed. She said she would call me back but never did.  I made sure to text her every other day. One day, I was laying in bed when suddenly I got the urge to text her,  I love you and I pray you get better sooner than later.  No response.  I didn’t expect one.  I knew she was sick. However,  I wasn’t expecting the next text I received, which was from my ex the next day, saying she passed. I cried. My heart broke. I mourned a little but not like I thought I would.  I have no guilt or regrets. She knew I loved her. She knew how I felt for her. There was no mistake or denying our friendship. I later found out my text was the last text she received before passing. At her funeral, I didn’t view her body.  There was no need. My friend was gone.  The body in the casket was a shell. I didn’t want to remember her that way.  I wanted to remember her smile, her laughter, her sense of style, so I remained seated. Her husband brought all that up. Memories of yesterday. Memories of our conversations. Memories of her love, support and friendship…

We ended the call with I love yous and talk to you soon. I will too. I will definitely keep in touch with him so I can continue to get my jewels. He made me laugh and cry in the same conversation. He made me believe in love again and new beginnings and he made me feel stronger… All I needed was a “You go, Girl” and I would have been set. Maybe next time…


Today i’m gonna write some true shit, not no love shit. It’s the real world out here, and it’s a lot harder to deal with. People come in and out your life, trying to take your wife. Drugs take so many lives, leaving junkies to watch their back from left to right. Fifteen year old girls become pregnant by men that only wanted one night, left to provide and wake up all hours of the night. That man in the corner had his heartbroken when he heard her cancer took over. Mothers torn between drugs or their kids, dads praying they get the chance to give. High school graduate trying to get a grip on life, now with no where to call home or their own. The most beautiful girl is stuck in an abusive relationship, with no way out. There’s individuals that have it all, and others waiting for that life changing call.

Rita Gabriiel