Leaving

Have had it up to here! And yes, no metaphor or simile, I am talking about ridding my life of you, my love dear. Always listen to rap, 50 Cent, G Unit, and no r&b or reggae. Figured you would play a cd of mine once or twice, but you always tell me that none of “my” music will you play.

You make me feel as if I have no feelings! But my ass or my tatas you are always feeling. When I question the nature and direction of our relationship, You tell me that that’s not a conversation you’re feelin’.

Boo, and I only call you such because I know that word you loathe. Too grown up of a woman to have been involved with a man who lets his mother still wash his clothes! The intercourse of this relationship has become redundant, and best know, that this is a celebration and not a woman’s heart grieving. Not bitter, angry, or any of those other things you may claim, but if this is over your slow, GED having, dimwitted, monosyballic head, I am leaving!

 - by Selim Ann Morgan