Whaddup community, where to begin?
Let’s just say when the past rolls up on you like a tidal wave, kickin’ in your back door, stealin’ your breath, and you’re down for the count, you need someone in your corner, tyin’up your gloves, cold-nickelin’ your wounds.
Lately it’s been hit after hit and I’m bouncin’ off the ropes, but I’ve got no tag-team partner to relieve me, and that just ain’t dope. I stand here alone, taking punch after punch—I’d like some empathy, but they’re all out to lunch.
I’m being gang banged by the past and the present rolled into one, social media in the room takin’ me down like a gun. I’m a tough baller girl through and through, but there’s no “I” in team and I need my crew.
Loyalty’s not high on his grocery list, and this hurts more than a well-aimed fist. Whispers in dark corners sting like betrayal – how could he fall for her lying, stained veil?
An epic night is comin’ up fast, and I don’t know where I stand. Do I throat punch and take him to his knees, or reach blindly for his hand?
I Snap a pic of my fist against my jaw and upload it beside my Blog and Post. This stings like a mother.