The other night…

I really believe that when some one passes away God gives them a pass sometimes to come back to earth when they are needed.

The signs we see, the things we run into, the dreams. 

They can’t just be concidense, can they? 

I truly don’t think so. 

Everyone always says, “They will always be with you.” and yeah you believe them to an extend but, it’s just not the same. 

You try so hard to believe that but, you find yourself looking for that person in other people. 

In your girl friends, in the mothers of others, and in everything you see and do. 

That little piece of your heart that’s now missing… is no where to be found. 

You look, you look, you try, and you try… 

But, nothing or anyone fills up that missing piece. 

The other night I realize, that no one will ever understand that. 

Specially not those who decide to be pitty and some how make your life about theirs. 

When someone that means so much to you passes away, not only does your life change or do you change… 

But, nothing will EVER be the same. 

And I have honestly discovered that this comes with good and bad. 

One good thing is that you are given a whole new pair of eyes. 

You learned to love and appreciate life, things, and most of all the people in your life. 

You find yourself telling those you love how much you love them constantly and even announcing it to the entire world. Not as a way of trying to be “annoying” or shove it in someone’s face… 

But, as a way of expressing yourself because you out of all people KNOW how short life truly is. 

The other night I realized that I shouldn’t be sorry for this. 


I also realized that, some people will never understand it. 

The other night I realized, that those we lose are truly always going to be there for us. 

I finally dreamed my mom after so long, and her words were as perfect as they’ve always been. 

“Don’t feel bad, there is nothing to be sorry for. Remember, God sees it all.” 



Here I am…

Here I am on his bed once again.
His dirty little secret is what I am.
He doesn’t love me, he never will, for I am not relationship material.
He loves another and this I know, yet I have no one to call my own.
So here I am on his bed once again, as he talks dirty to me and rips off my dress.
He takes my panties off with his teeth, and for a moment I feel pleased.
Until I think of her and I, and how I can’t compare to her and what she’s got.
Here I am on his bed once again, the other woman, the one who feeds him his piece of cake.
The one she cries about, and hates so much, the one that doesn’t let him arrive on time.
I sometimes wish I could explain myself, tell her he’s the one I love, but I don’t dare.
For what I feel doesn’t matter here, I am just his little whore and she’s the one he can’t let go.
Here I am on his bed once again, degrading myself because I have no one to call my own.


I wrote this, only because I can only imagine how mistresses feel and why they must continue on with that role.
Is it love?
I’d wish I could understand what makes women betray other women in this way?

Women are not all the same, they come in different shapes and possess different minds. We have the women with self respect, high standards and who know their values. They accept nothing less than what they are worth. We also have the women who are lost and insecure, which leads them to take any title just for some attention.