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Jan 28
For some reason, my black love is tainted.
What I mean is; it’s stale and lonely, not reciprocal.
I stand my ground, I speak my truth. Like lightning
and thunder, breaking branches forcing him to look my way.
Yet and still, those same branches, break into pieces forcing him to look away; away from the goodness of my heart, away from the responsibility of being good to me.

He’s afraid of my stance, afraid of me for being who I am.
He is afraid of being good to me, afraid to ease into my being.
He is totally afraid to be only mine, be only my days, nights, weekends and holidays.
He is afraid to own up to being one with me, being my man with no strings included.
He is wrong, wrong on so many adult levels. He is too old to play games.
Too old to play games with emotions like mine; grown up emotions that
deserve the best respect, grown up emotions that hail to my queeness.
I, being the queen that I am, deserves a top notch, down for me king.
Black or white, yellow or green, my tainted black love deserves happiness.
Happiness the explodes inside of me, radiating the glow of my sweet black love, my sweet black touch, my sweet blackness period!

My black love from what I can see is free for the giving, yet not so easily given.
I hold back my heart, I cover my soul, and I lay a dark blanket across my threshold so his feet won’t stump a hole in my heart.
Sometimes I slip and let him through; thinking I finally met my king. I slipped big time, I believed what he said, I believed what he did, I believed……….In him
Enough. Enough to know or should have known that this **** fool was using me.
My black love deserves so much better. My black love kicked his *** to the curb, my black love stands alone. My black love is too good to use up. My blackened love is taking a break, looking forward to the day that my king comes. I deserve to be happy; I am too good at being who I am.
Those who dissed the goodness of this black love will never experience my blackness again.

They will never experience my goodness, my blackness come alive inside of them.
My black love is mine to keep, mine to share, mine to let go when my king walks in.
My black love is lonely right now, my black love is mine to keep.
My blackness is hard to receive, but too hard to give away to just  any man.
My black love is like fire and lightening. Once you experience my power, you close your eyes and walk away. I dare you to step to my black love.
I dare you to stay and weather my storm.
Nikkie
Written by
Nikkie  47/F
(47/F)   
267
   Imran Islam
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