“Friends”
This is what you say we are, yet you can’t even face me or acknowledge me in public. I’m not your friend, I’m your worst kept secret.
I speak words of positivity and praise over your character in rooms where your name is mentioned, which surely you could never do for me. In fact, you’ve spoken negativity over me, made accusations, harsh judgements and jumped to conclusions of me- in your mind… maybe even in a room full of people who want me, but can’t have me. Desperate to stroke their egos and manipulate the image of a remarkable and authentic woman who intimidates them and holds them to a higher standard than society… they paint false narratives over me and you let them.
“Friends.”
In what manor.
In what way?
Certainly not your words or actions or neglect. Not in how you behave or fail to.
You’ve made many empty promises that we meant to bury, but there was no funeral because they’re still in the room with us… never truly put to rest. All the world’s a stage and when we are on one, I just sit and feel the tension of words unspoken. Shrinking myself to keep you complacent, feeling the pain of your inability to just do the noble thing. A simple smile, a simple wave would do. I forgive you, but you never forgive yourself and you spend so much time blaming me. I’m not sorry that I hold you to a higher standard. I expect more from everyone than they’ve normalized. I’m intentional and conscious, not lazy, especially with words and actions towards others.
“Friends.”
In what essence of the word?
No benefits. No real communication. No connection. Completely shut down. Pushed away by your insecurities. You never show up. Reminiscent of the many men I’ve known all my life, even the ones in my home growing up. Especially the one I once called “Daddy.” How ironic that you like to be called after by the same name of the man you’ve embodied in my life with your absence, mistreatment and neglect. A joke I’ve never once laughed at.
“Friends”.
In what fashion?
On what playing field?
You’ve heard my innermost intimate thoughts in detail and seen parts of me up close that I’ve been shamed for wanting to share. You want to be “Friends”, but you’ve heard how I sing to the Gods when the right places on my body are touched. You know my body’s secrets and my psychological triggers, you possess a map to my soul and have tried to use it against me, but you want to be “Friends.”
You want to be “Friends”, but when I look at you or think about you or hear your voice… I remember that I want to invite you between my legs into my temple and to hold your body pressed so deeply inside of me that we become one, to cascade a waterfall of divine nectar down your legs while you whisper the secret words of praise into my ear and make my body tremble and shake, releasing years of pain and trauma that dates back before my soul even met yours… possibly healing ancestral wounds I am unaware of.
How does one erase those thoughts and memories? I find it quite impossible. I’ll never be normal about you. I gasp at the thought of you. And then I get angry at the imbalance you’ve subjected me to. It could’ve been simple. “Friends with benefits”, sëxual healing, mutual support, laughter. Thats all I really wanted. But there were no benefits. You couldn’t get out of your own way and just enjoy the blessings. You really pushed away an opportunity we both asked of the universe. You took everything that felt good and made it bad. Harming both of us. Inner-child wounds are funny like that. You rejected my patience and pushed my buttons. You tried to pull demons out of me that I spent years healing, to come to you pure so that you could have a stress free experience. You dragged me down while I was trying to bring you up.
“Friends”
On what planet?
I don’t think it is possible for you to be my “Friend”. Not to my standards. I don’t tolerate the type of treatment that you have to offer, from anyone, especially not from someone who calls themselves my “friend”. I said that I didn’t want to put a title on how I feel for you because it’s too complicated and messy. The connection and disconnection both radiate like fire in the pit of my stomach. My sacral systems alarms going off. Stampeding internally. Begging you to touch me mentally, physically and spiritually. I will never say this because you’ve shown me that you cannot handle that kind of access to me. You don’t know what to do with it. You did once, and then never again. You’ve shown me that I am too much for you. So I don’t think we can be “Friends”. I generate an abundance that you’re not ready for.
So our last communication, was our last communication. What you think is your strength, I see as your greatest weakness. Cowardice. Hiding behind false and fabricated words and ideas. You call something your opinion when it is a choice. How silly of you to fold when I’ve laid all my cards on the table, all in, completely ready to lose the hand. You had the win, right there. I would’ve let you take all. Anything you wanted. But that wouldn’t have mattered, you were cheating and playing with Fools Gold. I would’ve lost more than I brought to the table. You showed me that in so many ways. You never thought you could win, so you continuously lose. It was never a game to me, but If you’re going come to try and play with me- you must know- these things are mind over matter. And the house always wins from one “Friend” to another.
Excuse my abrupt exit,
I have to go find better “Friends”.
May 19
May 19, 2026 at 7:53 AM UTC
“Friends”
This is what you say we are, yet you can’t even face me or acknowledge me in public. I’m not your friend, I’m your worst kept secret.
I speak words of positivity and praise over your character in rooms where your name is mentioned, which surely you could never do for me. In fact, you’ve spoken negativity over me, made accusations, harsh judgements and jumped to conclusions of me- in your mind… maybe even in a room full of people who want me, but can’t have me. Desperate to stroke their egos and manipulate the image of a remarkable and authentic woman who intimidates them and holds them to a higher standard than society… they paint false narratives over me and you let them.
“Friends.”
In what manor.
In what way?
Certainly not your words or actions or neglect. Not in how you behave or fail to.
You’ve made many empty promises that we meant to bury, but there was no funeral because they’re still in the room with us… never truly put to rest. All the world’s a stage and when we are on one, I just sit and feel the tension of words unspoken. Shrinking myself to keep you complacent, feeling the pain of your inability to just do the noble thing. A simple smile, a simple wave would do. I forgive you, but you never forgive yourself and you spend so much time blaming me. I’m not sorry that I hold you to a higher standard. I expect more from everyone than they’ve normalized. I’m intentional and conscious, not lazy, especially with words and actions towards others.
“Friends.”
In what essence of the word?
No benefits. No real communication. No connection. Completely shut down. Pushed away by your insecurities. You never show up. Reminiscent of the many men I’ve known all my life, even the ones in my home growing up. Especially the one I once called “Daddy.” How ironic that you like to be called after by the same name of the man you’ve embodied in my life with your absence, mistreatment and neglect. A joke I’ve never once laughed at.
“Friends”.
In what fashion?
On what playing field?
You’ve heard my innermost intimate thoughts in detail and seen parts of me up close that I’ve been shamed for wanting to share. You want to be “Friends”, but you’ve heard how I sing to the Gods when the right places on my body are touched. You know my body’s secrets and my psychological triggers, you possess a map to my soul and have tried to use it against me, but you want to be “Friends.”
You want to be “Friends”, but when I look at you or think about you or hear your voice… I remember that I want to invite you between my legs into my temple and to hold your body pressed so deeply inside of me that we become one, to cascade a waterfall of divine nectar down your legs while you whisper the secret words of praise into my ear and make my body tremble and shake, releasing years of pain and trauma that dates back before my soul even met yours… possibly healing ancestral wounds I am unaware of.
How does one erase those thoughts and memories? I find it quite impossible. I’ll never be normal about you. I gasp at the thought of you. And then I get angry at the imbalance you’ve subjected me to. It could’ve been simple. “Friends with benefits”, sëxual healing, mutual support, laughter. Thats all I really wanted. But there were no benefits. You couldn’t get out of your own way and just enjoy the blessings. You really pushed away an opportunity we both asked of the universe. You took everything that felt good and made it bad. Harming both of us. Inner-child wounds are funny like that. You rejected my patience and pushed my buttons. You tried to pull demons out of me that I spent years healing, to come to you pure so that you could have a stress free experience. You dragged me down while I was trying to bring you up.
“Friends”
On what planet?
I don’t think it is possible for you to be my “Friend”. Not to my standards. I don’t tolerate the type of treatment that you have to offer, from anyone, especially not from someone who calls themselves my “friend”. I said that I didn’t want to put a title on how I feel for you because it’s too complicated and messy. The connection and disconnection both radiate like fire in the pit of my stomach. My sacral systems alarms going off. Stampeding internally. Begging you to touch me mentally, physically and spiritually. I will never say this because you’ve shown me that you cannot handle that kind of access to me. You don’t know what to do with it. You did once, and then never again. You’ve shown me that I am too much for you. So I don’t think we can be “Friends”. I generate an abundance that you’re not ready for.
So our last communication, was our last communication. What you think is your strength, I see as your greatest weakness. Cowardice. Hiding behind false and fabricated words and ideas. You call something your opinion when it is a choice. How silly of you to fold when I’ve laid all my cards on the table, all in, completely ready to lose the hand. You had the win, right there. I would’ve let you take all. Anything you wanted. But that wouldn’t have mattered, you were cheating and playing with Fools Gold. I would’ve lost more than I brought to the table. You showed me that in so many ways. You never thought you could win, so you continuously lose. It was never a game to me, but If you’re going come to try and play with me- you must know- these things are mind over matter. And the house always wins from one “Friend” to another.
Excuse my abrupt exit,
I have to go find better “Friends”.
