Habits
Gluttony
Greed
Bribery
Lustfulness

Passed down
Generation
After generation
After generation
After generation
Okay, I get it, it get it
You get it, you get it.

Let's get personal
Born set up for failure
My statistics not looking bright
First baby born of color born into
A family of strictly whites

Grandmother beat my mother
When she discovered
The life forming inside of her
Was half black -
Don't cry mother, or I'll whither
Inside of you.

I grew and grew
Taught lies upon lies
About myself
The other half of me.

The only love I knew was of my mother.
There was no other -
Until she started to take it out on me

Habits
Passed
From generation upon generation.

She was sick and tired of being
Sick and tired
Stomped to the ground due to her
Kindness
Abused emotionally due to her
Selfless-ness
Mistreated physically due to her
Weakness
She took it out on me.

Cornered me to a wall
Choked me up
Laughing - she couldn't get enough
Of the amusement of my pain
All done in vain
Because she couldn't stop the strain
Put on her brain.

Scarring my face
Pulling my hair
Public places
Not a care -

Kicking
Scratching
Pulling
Biting
The agony
The hate
The battle wounds
The hurt
The scars -
On my heart.

Habits
Passed from generation
To generation
To generation

I was sick on the inside
My heart - suffering -
never ending bleeding
My brain
Psychologically ill
Flashbacks
I locked myself up in my room
Head in pillow
Screaming louder than your annoying baby sister who throws her unnecessary temper tantrums

In the middle of the night.
I tied myself up mentally
Stuck
Self-hate
Self-abuse
Self-hurt

In the sixth grade I to myself -
I wanted going to ****
And my victim was myself.
Filled with the poison - I was ill
Injected with self-hate
Hated my family
Hated all my traits
Hated all forms of humanity.

Habits
Passed
From generation to generation
To generation.

I would give you everything,
yes, every piece of me,
and wish to give you more.
I wish I could describe it to you,
the amount of love I feel.
Maybe quantify it, so
we can visualize it.
Is it a million, a hundred million?
Maybe infinity and more.
The word "love" is just not strong
enough. So how do I tell you?
Adoration, and passion, and lustfulness,
and fondness. All of these words, no,
none of them are powerful enough.
So maybe my own word is
an order, for who is to say
I cannot?
Lishvilnesh!
Hesmelah!
Bakeldohm!
I cannot describe the amount
of love I have for you, so
it must be lishvilnesh! I'm
overcome by hesmelah! I cannot
contain the bakeldohm!
Ah, but it is not so easy,
for it would take hundreds of years to
attach such weight to a word, and
infinitely many more
to attach my feelings
for you.

2am

These 2am thoughts consume my mind like an entrée,
Devouring every square inch of my cognition.
Its always a constant war between my heart's intuition
And my mind's belligerence.
Redirecting my brain to consciously fall victim to making"mistakes" .


But It is only when the sun temporarily evaporates
and the night sky transpires
When images and memories of us flock in my head.
Like our careless rendezvous and lustfulness that became euphoric..

If I could just sleep,
Sleep maybe.
I'd sleep away the pain,
The result of these 2am thoughts.

Only those with the wisest minds -the oldest eyes, remember the days of love truly lost.
The woman with the rage speckled iris, the man with the world-heavy curved spine,
Holding aloft thy heads as the wisping breaths of each memory tortures and threatens to crack.
Like mere puppets dangled on a string are they. The heavy ambiguity collapses the lungs,
the heart torn from the cavity from such pure and sheer anguish

that one would think thine eyes had seen many a scorned sky.
But nay.
this is neither scalding storm nor bloodcurling encounter
tis nout but mere consequence
Consequence that comes from tasting the sweet nectar of thy goddess affection;
The honeycombed effect of forged kisses under the stars;
The rippling shudder of the pulses as skin meets skin.
Eyes caressing over mounds and peaks of soft flesh and pray!
My sweet, sweet maria the smell of youngling dew
As one awakens from the deep, soothing slumber that follows
Each blissful frolicking under the devious eye of the tangent sun.
Aye.
Thy beauty is but a hideous monster scarring the vessels of the ventricles as they lay.
But as sure as day and as righteous as the gods are we addicted,
Like fresh salt in a wound after the ****** high.
Pain crashes blindly against the unravelling ribbons of sobriety
Lustfulness takes under like the crash of the star spangled wing on the wave;
And you my wistful lover! My dear maria;
Are the amphetamine to my warped and harrowed heart.

She’s a figment for vulnerable men
Who see beauty through self-loathing windows.
Her beauty is far too much to take when
It pierces the heart where passion’s sin goes.

Ashamedly smitten men curse their eyes
For beholding beauty they don’t deserve.
They seek her attention, she ignores their cries.
They grovel on their hands and knees to serve.

Her nakedness sows men’s basest skin’s need,
For intimate contact with lurid thought.
She is the temptress, they’ll follow her lead,
Through gates of despair their lustfulness brought.

She strikes men dumb just because she is there.
They have nothing real and pure to compare.

I love to feel your body next to mine
I languidly run my nails up and down your chest.
Time has been kind to you, you've aged like fine wine
Next to you I feel delirious that you desire me.
I feel addicted to you, my passion is boundless.
Every time I see you, I smile,
Wantonly I want you to defile me.
Craving you like an addict craves his drug of choice.
Your touch emblazones my need, my lustfulness.
How long will our desire last?
Until we run out of breath?
Until we desire others?
I kiss you deeply, hear your heart pound in time with mine,and
I lie in the knowledge that we will never desire another
                                                  j.g