The second time we met was two weeks later. I was dancing alone in the mirror at club Coconuts. And since I didn't know a soul there, I watched people watch me as the fans blew my hair into a whirlwind... For a moment I thought I was in a video. After about two songs or so I noticed a familiar face glaring at me over the rim of a cup of something or other. I smiled and so did she. A few seconds later we were talking and laughing and she was asking me for my number again.... The funny thing is, I gave it to her this time (I didn't really recognize her from a few weeks before). I guess she didn't recognize me either.
Brownies and ice cream every day after that—downtown at Baskin Robins, Ah, new love. Real life—love.
No, No, No. I can't, we can't, you can't. I used to love to dance in the mirror but now, no Coconuts, No pooh....
Hummmmmmmmm maybe I should go out.
In three years and six months I became the most loving and devoted housewife anyone could ask for because I couldn't work because of depressive illness and it got worse with the thrift store clothes. I loved--Nope, I love her but I think I loved her too much and I almost let myself go. But I'm back and better than ever, searching for what I almost lost forever, myself.
What do I like to do? I'm not sure. Where is my favorite place to eat? Denny's I think....What's my favorite color? Ah, I remember that one, blue! (ask pooh if she knows… I doubt it. lol) The color of the sky, water and ice, as in ICE cold-hearted pieces, or Aquarius. I know every word to every song she writes, but my poems collect dust in a box or a tote. We've moved so much, that I never even have time to set up my office space. So, it was just me, my laptop and my cat for a long, long time. Pooh had to work. Yeah that's right, work. I think I needed an outlet, someone to talk to.
Not a friend with benefits, I'm not a job or something to do, if you get my drift. I just need a friend, a real friend. One that calls me just to say, "Hey" or one that actually WANTS to know how my writing is going. I get writer's block a lot. If anybody gives a rat’s ass, guess nobody saw that coming. Maybe going through this break-up will allow me to see who my true "friends" are and who the snakes in the grass are, too.
Don't get it twisted, I love all my friends but like Ms. MINAJ says "step ya cookies up before they crumble...."
Dedicated to anybody who has had to start over from the bottom, I definitely feel you.
— Isis
