The Joy Scribbles

Dear Darling, You have convinced yourself that there is nothing more to you than him. But I am here to remind you that he is the stale taste of overnight cigarettes and the heavy presence of vodka on a sunday morning. And you? You are the sun and stars. A whole Galaxy. A swirl of places I could hide myself in. He tried to set you on fire didn't he? He tried to burn down your barricades and when you didn't break he fed you love in the form of roses, wine, Brazilian weaves and luxuries you never needed. He tried to coax you out of your safe room, Didn't he? He tried to fatten you up with insecurities so there would be no space for self love in there. Why did no one tell him you were a volcanoe? And that no one had survived your erruptions? Why did no one tell him that broken boys can't love strong women? Didn't he know? Didn't he see you would break him? Didn't he see you were not the kind of horse that could be tamed? Cause I did. I saw it the moment yo...

The first time he says he loves you,  you ask if he remembers when you were ten and your dog died.  If he remembers the hug he gave you.  He says yes.  You tell him that was the last time a hug put you together,  and you wish you guys were ten again because 17 is a terrible age to fall in love. 

hi... A follower requested a short story by me a while ago. here is what i have of Annie so far.  She put the cigarette to her mouth. Inhaled the minty smoke and breathed it out through her nose. “I’m Annie”. She squat down to put the cigarette on the floor exposing her sexy thighs and then stood up before stubbing it out with her leopard print heel. It crumbled, the filter still intact stained with lipstick.  “I’m not much of a smoker.” she said reapplying her pink lipstick. “One puff and I’m good. Probably a waste of money though.” Her biracial hair was tumbling away from the top knot bun and she was trying to pin it up. The sweat glistened on her long neck. “I like to dance. That’s why I’m all sweaty. I’m always dancing when I’m out. It’s ridiculous.” She slid through the club door, turned and called out “Dance with me”. He tossed his cigarette to the street and followed. Her slim figure slid through the crowd easily while he struggled to keep up. He kept his eye on ...

Is it a sin if I write 2? The reason is for some people they meet one person who understands their soul and they call them their best friend and for me I've met two different people who understand me so differently but who i love so fiercely I couldn't live without them. so here goes... Darling, I used to think that I knew nothing about you. That I opened myself to you and got nothing from you but hugs and condolences and tears about how i deserved better but not a single bit of you. Then i realized I never asked. Always so observed in myself that I never noticed that maybe unlike me who sprawls herself to whoever will listen, you needed prompting. But I have since learned that nothing anyone does has to do with me. And it makes smile that occasionally when the pressure of the things you bottle up inside cracks its me you call at 2 am in tears. And sure I have no fucken Idea why You're crying. And sure I've never met your man. Or remember his name because he never ...