Diamond Out of Concrete


When you are a woman with health issues, love becomes just another stress in your life.  Men are visual creatures and imperfections lessens a woman’s beauty.  We get judged from hair to feet including the color of the skin we are wrapped in.  So many physical things can stop a man from trying to even just know you.  Stretch marks, a belly, flat ass, big waist, a wide back, moles, not so smooth skin, cellulite, scars….  Having an autoimmune disorder is like having a scar on the inside.  Actually, more of a wound that doesn’t heal.  It doesn’t just affect your body, it affects your mind too.  It makes you feel weak, worthless, and worn out.  For a man to love you through that is a beautiful thing indeed.

You see, a man that is willing to love a woman with health issues is the real hero here, the real warrior.  He has to be strength for two.  He does things that other men would only do for their mothers.  He is a protector and provider tenfold.  He is a man of patience, understanding, maturity, and compassion.  To the ladies who have that, a man to love you through all your flaws and even the mountain that health issues can be in your life; issues that even questions the love you have for yourself; a man that love you with all the normal imperfections that women have plus your health issues…. Cherish him.  Love him.  Be totally grateful and appreciative of him, because you mined a diamond out of concrete….

I Wanna Be Her…


I wanna be her.

That chick you can’t get enough of. Laughing with you, crying with you, passenger seat side kick.  The one you think about waking up and going to sleep.  Bounce your ideas off me.  Taking the stress of being a black man off of your shoulders when you walk in the door.  I wanna be that warm embrace, that sweet smell.  Let me take care of you while you take care of us.  Let me have your back, holding you up like a kickstand when the world trying to knock you down.  Me and you against the world.  We are super heros. Fighting the bullshit. Not each other….  But when we fight… we get stronger, love deeper, and fuck harder.

I wanna be her.

Smell me on your clothes when you are at work.  Home cooked meals and sleeping on fresh sheets.  Massages while you are resting and getting your dick sucked on the way to sleep.  A sweet smile shining through the darkness. A soft place to land.  A cool breeze on a hot day.  Make you feel like work is play.  Anticipating my pussy like a holiday cause its yours…you own it. Paid in full, stamped, title in your hand if you just ask…

Cause I wanna be her….if you let me…

I Think I Fucked Up


How awesome of me to have pissed off the one person that I talk to about every thing and who actually gives a dayum about me.  I hate talking to someone I care about when someone else has done something to piss me off because it will seem like I am mad at them and not the previous situation.  I am not good at hiding my feelings.  He called me and gave me some great advice about how to improve my health.  We had been talking about it for a while and I am excited to get my health back on track.  Because I was feeling frustrated about some of the things my mother and grandmother said to me earlier he detected the frustration in my voice even though I was genuinely grateful that he is so invested in helping me get my health on track.  He asked why did my voice sound like that and I told him that I was just feeling frustrated about some things that had been said to me and what he was saying kind of fell in line but his intentions were different.  I couldn’t explain fully how I was feeling because when I get that frustrated and don’t get a chance to process my emotions, my communication skills leave something to be desired.


I swear sometimes people don’t understand how stressful and mentally fucked up a person can be when they feel helpless about their situation.  I was born with this disorder and I feel like some people come at me like I did this to myself.  I never have any fucking energy.  I wake up feeling like shit most of the time.  I have moments of strength but sometimes I get very, very weak.  I feel like I am useless at times and hearing someone say that I sit back and wait on the government to take care of me was like a shot to the brain.  I didn’t choose to be sick.  It’s not my fault.  I lost everything behind this fucking disorder.  There is no telling where I would be if I never got sick and to hear me get reduced to a government dependent hurt me to my core.  I shut down at that point and started talking to him crazy as hell.  Huge mistake and I am sorry as hell. 


I don’t know if he will every talk to me again.  He rushed off the phone and won’t answer my text messages.  Honestly, I am kinda used to being abandoned now and that’s kinda sad.  It hurts and that’s okay too.  Pain is safe because I know it so well.  It’s this love shit that has me feeling fucked up.  No pills for that…

My Pain, My Papi


Writing is my therapy.  Late at night like this when I am in pain and everyone is sleeping.  I sit up and write and wonder and think and cry and wish and hope… in silence.  The clicking of my keyboard as I type and my ragged breathing choked with tears wishing I wasn’t alone in this place I don’t want to be.  Eleven hours from now I have an appointment with my surgeon and I am terrified about what he is going to say even though I know he is definitely going to want to cut me again.  When he see the new scars and lumps in my skin, I can already hear him saying that he is going to schedule a surgery.  Shit, they are gonna slice on me forever.  No cure.  No lasting treatment.  When am I gonna go in remission?!  Don’t get me wrong, I have come a long way.  I don’t see gaping holes in my skin anymore but the random skin spiting, bleeding, and pain isn’t all that fun either. 

On top of all that, I miss him so much. His kisses, his caresses, his arms wrapping around my body, hearing him breath in his sleep, staring at me when I talk to him with this little smirk on his face, feeling his moustache tickle my skin, feeling his naked body slide on top of mine…. just his presence.  I need him now and forever.  He makes the pain go away.  My baby.  My papi. I hate the power he has over me but I am a glutton for his punishment.  I’m fucked up right now. But I will see what the sun brings in a few hours…

In My Feelings


You are a enigma I want to decipher

A puzzle I want to solve

A mystery I want to ponder

A problem I want to become aware of

I see you shining in the darkness

Guiding me to the light

Creating paths where there was once wilderness

An reviving where there was once plight

I want to learn from your wisdom

I want to bask in your glow

I want to peek into the depths of your heart

To from whence your love flow.

I don’t know if you are ready

I might not be too

But if you are willing

I am willing

Just me

Yes, me

And you



It’s My Anniversary!

img_20140328_2j12920 (1)Today is the anniversary of my surgery.  My have my life changed since then!  I am socially, mentally, physically, and emotionally different for the better.  I truly got my life back that day.  I am so humbled but at the same time proud of my experiences fighting this incurable disorder.  People keep telling me I am strong and I am starting to see that indeed I am.  Even in my weakest moments I am strong.

Just last month, I experienced the worst pain I have even been in during my entire life.  One weekend I went to the emergency room and just six days later, I was back.  That morning, it took me forever to get out of bed.  I took my shower and noticed how sore the skin on my stomach was.  When I got out of the shower and sat on my bed, I noticed that the skin around my navel was very swollen and red.  I showed my best friend because I had never experienced it quite like that before.  I laid in bed for hours after that.

When I got up to get something to drink, my stomach hurt so bad that I couldn’t bend at the waist.  I dropped a bottle of Starbucks out of the fridge and just left it there because I couldn’t bend over to pick it up.  I lay in bed and took a Lortab, the first one I had taken in months.  I slept about 4 hours, then the pain woke me up.  I woke up crying and whimpering.  I was in so much pain that I couldn’t even move my body.  I lay there crying about 20 minutes trying to maneuver my body enough so that I could reach the body of pain medication that was in bed with me.  I took the pill and lay there crying until the pain subsided enough for me to reach my phone.  

I wanted to call the ambulance but I know I didn’t have the money to pay for it.  I called my roommate and asked if she would drive me to the emergency room.  It was about 2 am and she basically told me to drive myself.  I just hang up the phone.  I was in too much pain to explain or argue.  I felt like I was dying.  It felt like I was getting stabbed with knives from the inside.  I got up and threw on a jacket.  Yes I still had on my night gown, but thank good it was cute because I didn’t have the energy to find clothes to put on.  It took me about 20 minutes to get to my car from the house.  It was cold and raining but my skin felt very hot.  However, by the time I sat in my car, I was shivering cold.  I live approximately 4.5 miles from the hospital but it took me nearly 30 minutes to drive there.  I was in so much pain, it was raining, and I still had the Lortabs in my system even though they were barely keeping the pain in check.  

By the time I pulled up at the emergency room, I couldn’t even get out of my car.  I called the hospital and had them transfer me to the front desk.  Two nurses came out.  When they opened my car door, I almost fell out.  They couldn’t believe I had driven myself there in that much pain.  I just started to cry.  They helped me into a wheelchair and the male nurse went and parked my car for me.  I pretty much went straight to the back.  I was in so much pain that I couldn’t even stand up to give them a urine sample.  The doctor came in and he was being a total ass to me.  He basically asked me what my condition was then tried to argue with me that what I was saying wasn’t true. Being that I was in so much I pain I basically schooled him about my condition in the nastiest voice ever.  The nurse that was in there was horrified.  He said, “Man, I can’t let her be in pain like this, we have to give her something dude.”  I guess he got ashamed and he suddenly started being nice to me and instructed the nurse to give me morphine.  They set up my IVs and the morphine calmed my pain down enough and I was able to give the urine sample.  The came in and took blood.  I slept a lot.  My temperature was climbing.  They admitted me at about 9am.

By that time my temperature was at 103.7 and climbing.  I was having shivers and chills so bad that the whole bed was shaking.  They gave me something to get it down and I just remember passing out.  When I woke up at around 1pm, I was soaking wet with sweat but my temperature was back to normal.  It was around that third day when I started to feel better.  The doctors told me that I had gotten a dangerous and rare blood infection caused by my skin disorder.  The fifth day they told me I had MRSA.  Everyone that came in my room had to wear these mask and suits.  Nothing could leave my room.  I was considered highly contagious.  They told me that I would have to stay in the hospital for 2 more weeks and that I would have to be on IV antibiotics from home for about 2 to 3 months and that I would need a nurse.  I was devastated.  But the doctors were baffled too.  They said that if I had MRSA, I should have still been feeling very sick but I wasn’t.  I was still weak but not nearly as sick as I was when I came in.

They began testing my blood like crazy and finally they determined that I did not have MRSA and I would be released the next day.  I was so happy.  I celebrated over the phone with my two guy friends, one of which had slept in my room with me for 3 days and the other which kept me company on the phone everyday.  I am forever grateful to them!  Even after that ordeal last month, I am still grateful for how far I have come and how far I plan to go.  Happy anniversary to me!