Expectation is the root of all heartache.
I don’t think people love me. They love versions of me I have spun for them, versions of me they have construed in their minds. The easy versions of me, the easy parts of me to love.
Hugs from behind, neck kisses, butt grabs. I deserve these nice things.
I just wanna take time out of my day to thank God for black women.
Black women are a gift sent from above!
The oddest things hurt me. They get stuck in my head and replay over and over.