You were the first person I wanted to make a forever with. You gave me hope that we could grow into our roles as soulmates. I actually called you my soulmate, well not to your face. I had just met you in computer class and we couldn't legally go on a field trip without permission let alone try to forge a union.

Give me commands. Clear guidelines. An itemized list of your needs.

You were exactly what I asked for. A carbon copy straight out of my mind. I should have been more careful.

When I tell you I love you, it doesn't mean we go together now. It doesn't mean I want your children. It doesn't mean I need to meet your family. I love you means I love who you are as a person. I have surpassed like and landed on love.

This is your eviction notice. Your placeholder, an unattainable musician, is helping me move your memories. Not sure where they'll go but at this point, I don't want to know.

I'm sick of the men in their feelings and not knowing how harmful and/or annoying they are with them.

I am sick of people like you. People who drain me for everything I have. People who take shots at my family. People with no regard for how they hurt others.

I don't know about you but I need to have the things that frustrate me in my life. I need lies and betrayal and adversity and disappointment and hopelessness and expectations and goals and anxiety and neurotic thoughts. Because who am I without them?

I used to love the mystery to you. The way I couldn't quite pin you down. How you were down the street one day and in another state the next. The well known two way connection left me with a busy tone when I needed you most. You were the most beautiful butterfly in my life. Oh how my impressionable I was then.

With every step more eyes follow the way my hips sway. Older women chastising me for the uncontrollable, smaller women tossing envy coated daggers, I am the controversy by being present.

Let me clear up some misconceptions you may have when you encounter me encroaching on your comfort zones.

When you are just you, playing people just for the hell of it is a hobby that's acceptable.

I am not your honey, sweetie or dear. Do not try to sweeten mefor your own consumption.

She was right. Omission is a lie. It's the most familiar kind of lie I tell. It's so second nature I don't even catch it anymore.

Forgive me Lord, for I haven’t been honest with myself. Or anyone for that matter. If it’s OK with You, I’d like to confess.

Sometimes running away from a venus flytrap in human form gets old. Sometimes letting something you know was an insult slide gnaws at the irritation you've been harboring for months.

I'm strong without you. And it hurts that you're upset about it. You're supposed to be rooting for me. And I guess in a way you are.

At the crux of change, I find myself backing away. My words have always left the residue of a dream edging closer to reality. I'm almost done.

My past showed up in a dream the other night. He didn't look the way I remembered him. I can't really tell you how he looked but my dream self knew it was him.