Monthly Archives: May 2015

Beauty qualities.

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Beautiful… In my mind “be you” and the full tea doesn’t really matter because I’m not really a tea fan.

…but really, that’s what beauty really is to me. Being you!

Accepting and loving yourself for who you are, and that means settling with your inner self and not allowing anyone to change your ideas about your journey in life.

…but then again I can never be beautiful enough, because society has chosen to own beauty rights and make our conscience its playground.

Setting up a list of qualities to qualify you the right to being beautiful, because now not everyone can be beautiful.

Long fake eyelashes, fake hair, fake nails, light skin, make-up, implants of breasts and other “attractive body parts” are part of the qualifying criteria.

…and if you lack any of those you don’t really qualify as being “beautiful”.

So…Now I, with my afro’d hair, real eyelashes, thick eyebrows, dark skin, Vaselined face and “skinny” self will never ever be “beautiful” enough in their eyes.

…because all my qualities don’t qualify.

I’m a mistress…

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I’m the other woman and I just don’t know it yet. His thoughts!

A text once in a while because he’s free, he misses me  and all the other “textless” days shouldn’t really matter to me.

“I love you” only when it suits him because I’m expected to understand that he’s not really a fan of romance.

See… The only “love” I can ever get from him is “financial love” and not “emotional love” because now real men don’t do emotions.

All my wrongs are life – threatening but all his wrongs are right because he’s apparently the only one who wears pants in this relationship.

Never question his actions but always answer for mine because he knows better.
 
Belts, cuffs,  poles and whips are part of his toys. Phela I’m enslaved to keep this man happy at all times.

Ankles tied to each pole,  wrists above the head…not even a single sound should be heard and all that is tailored for me because now his “only woman” is too important for that.

…but now you shouldn’t feel sorry for me because I’ve signed up for  this. See… like a  “lamb to the slaughter” I’m a “slave to his needs”.

Clearly not his woman but his slave.

Like a stubborn old oak tree I refuse to fall.

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With my broken heart in place I stepped up to him and said: “Man, forget about loving me. Just snap out of that thought. See…I can never allow you that chance, because like the rest, you might just fail to love me correctly.”

…but now with my warm inviting smile he thought I was joking.

So…He got closer, in attempts to save me from my “pain – embellished” thoughts.

…and I screamed: “Nigga please! Step away from me, come on yo. Make like the tree and leave, can’t you see that I don’t wanna be saved?”

See…now at this point his undersized ego was a big enough blindfold to blind his eyes from the truth. I mean this guy here was too blind to see that this girl doesn’t wanna be saved.
He was too blind to see that he is not needed in my life and that his presence in my life is not really essential.

See…Every step he took getting closer to me was a pledge to his “master-race” to enter my life and play Superman but now this stupid guy didn’t understand that I don’t want uSuperman I just want my simple man.

Like the rest he thought I was being stubborn, but I actually wasn’t. I was just being true to myself and standing my ground.

Not giving in to their ideas about me and who I am. Not allowing them the chance to determine my happiness and clearly not falling into this love trap that has them tripping girls hard.

…because now, like a stubborn old oak tree I refuse to fall.

Poor me has allowed another vulture into my kraal.

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Poor me has allowed another vulture into my kraal.

This time, with my eyes opened I’ve opened the gates and allowed him in.

I don’t really know what I want yet but I know he can never give me what I want. Only I can give him what he wants.

So…I guess I might as well declare this relationship a “give ad give relationship” because it’s clear enough that I’ll always give and never get anything back.

…but you can’t blame y’all ‘coz I’ve chosen to close my eyes, ngoba ngesaba ukuxhoshwa yi-disappointement and simply call it “love being blind”.

Poor me has allowed another vulture into my kraal because loneliness is no longer my favourite style.

Finally free!

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I wish my silence was loud enough to buy me your attention.
I wish my tears were enough to drown your ignorance.

…but now those are just wishes and reality says you can never care enough to notice the scars left by your absence in my life.

I wish I knew why you promised to stay by my side forever when you knew very well that your “forever” was just a few weeks long.

I could never understand how you steal someone’s heart with no other intention but to just break it apart.

…but then again my lesson I’ve learnt and you know what they say about lessons learnt the hard way – they’re never forgotten -.

See…my lesson I’ve learnt and it’s all thanks to you. You have not destroyed me but you’ve emancipated me from the silly traditions of longing for love.

I am free and I shall never allo. w LOVE to set a price tag on my happiness.

It can never be love but lust.

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I think I can never be loved but lusted.
This actually became clear enough for me to see when we sat across each other on a dinner date.

See… This guy took me out with an intention to join a group of guys who once took a journey to trying their luck with me and came back with broken egos.

I don’t believe that “all men are the same” but I actually do believe that most guys are the same.
See… Like them he saw me has an object to be used and not a person to be loved but unlike them he got to sit down with me and fall in love.

… but now paranoia had me boxing him with the rest. Naming him a vulture and actually waiting for him to start with me and allow me the chance to tell him where to get off.

So… He took a deep breath and actually tried wheeling me into his heart, but now my head was too full of judgment that my ears couldn’t hear what he was saying.

Without listening to him pouring his heart out I struck on some… “Hey… Why don’t you save yourself the effort, choose “manfarer” form, ditch your cowardly ways and men up enough to be honest with me by not selling me dreams singing about love but actually tell me that you don’t love me but you lust me…because I know I can never be loved but lusted.”