letters to the brothers

 Dear Brothers ,

Please let me start by saying this is not a put down. Women are just a little tried of being mistreated, mishandled, and misappreciated . When we are trying to have a conversation with you that has to do with our relationship you need to pay attention. Every time we try to tell you what’s going on with us you call it nagging. But we give the silent treatment and we are being a Bitch. We have to understand that you all have to watch your football /basketball/ baseball / hockey whenever you all have to watch to fulfill the fantasy that you all had growing up. However you feel like you all don’t have to listen to any of our feelings or talk to us about anything. Let me be the first to tell you that is B.S.

NOTICE: I’m About To Get Real. If you want a woman, not a girl or regular female, but a woman to not only open up her legs but be juicy for you need to reach her mind and her heart. Why do we as woman have to be the one to give up shit. You mean to tell me that you as a man get to watch all these sports which take up most of your time then with the little time you do give me I can’t talk about my feelings. Who in the hell do you think you are?

If you guys see a big butt and some supple breasts you all are usually ready to go however with women we need just a little bit more. Well actually a lot more we need to feel safe, loved, and looked after. Men you can’t do that without listening at least a little. This is the last thing I going to say.

The more you open up and listen to a woman the more she will open up to you in all ways.

A black woman living in pain

Hardheaded

                Why is it so hard to explain some things to hardheaded people? I have been though this I think I might know what I am talking about, at least a little bit. For instance people act like they don’t believe how much pain I am in on a daily bases.  Do you know how much better the world will be if we just listened to each other? There will be less misunderstandings, less fights, hell even less debt. But no there are just too much stubbornness in the world for that to happen. I know that I am stubborn sometimes but I always remember that I can learn from another person. Shoot I know the smartest man knows he knows nothing at all. It just pisses me off to the highest level of pisstivtity (yes I made up the word) when people don’t listen at all. Don’t they know you can’t grow that way.

Just a little rant!

a black woman living in pain

While the computer was down

9/1/11

Isn’t funny how I want to write every day but because my mind is so jumbled with stuff you can’t even get a whole sentence out. Then as soon as your computer is out repairs for weeks and  you are reduced to pen and pad that’s when you get the writing bug.

                My life has been good lately but with the good must come the bad. I breathing and alive but my health could be better (who’s couldn’t though.) I have a fiancée but we are still trying to figure each other out. Something we have waited all our lives for. It’s just that we are making sure that this is real because I am not trying to get married to get divorced. Don’t get me wrong I love him with my everything but he does have his ways (as I am sure I have mine.) We are planning a wedding and we don’t even have a “beer budget.”  Then my darling son is having a barrel of problems and no none of these problems have anything to do with my relationship.  Awwww… did I take away the easy answer? (Sorry didn’t mean to be mean Just a little on edge.) He is just not in a good place right now. Did I mention that I have had this big writer’s block for like ever. Even my hair is all over my head cause I don’t have the strength to do it myself. I feel so helpless. I am at my heaviest weight I have been at since ever! It’s hard to move because my body is breaking down.

                I feel like I am an old ass woman and I am only 28 years old. I can’t walk a block without needed to stop and sit down. It’s not because of my size. Although a lot of the time I do have to catch my breathe but I believe that is because of the asthma. I can’t walk because It hurts like hell my back starts twisting into this huge ball. The only thing that will stop it is my sitting down and relaxing. I have to cook in the kitchen with a chair. It’s just really mixed up right now.

                Ok this is what I wrote while my computer was out please leave your comments.

Yours with love,

A Black Woman Living In Pain

I Cry

I cry

I can’t believe this place I’m in.

Pressure is coming from all sides

But I have no where to move

I want to cry but I’m afraid to be vulnerable

I feel like I’m coming unglued ripping at the seems

Everyone knows the right thing to do but me

Because apparently everything I do is wrong

Don’t know what to do, which way to turn.

A deer stuck in headlights

I try to be the best person I can be but I fail

The best mother, child, friend, lover, sister

I can see it failing apart in front of my eyes like a sand castle built to close to the edge slowly eroding away.

I cry because it’s painful,

I cry because I’m not free,

I cry because I’m invisible and no one sees me.

No one knows, why can’t they see the demons tormenting me

I know why the cage bird sings and why the free one stays silent.

Constrains don’t have to be made out of metal and steel.

The saddest person could have just pasted you on the street.

The happiest on cell block 9.

So just because of the smile is on my face doesn’t mean it’s in my soul.

And the person wearing the most bling it could feel like coal.

It’s tired trying to be happy when you’re not.

To seem as if you feel great when you are at your worst.

I cry because it’s painful

I cry because I’m not free

I cry because I’m invisible and no one sees me.

Cherlnell ” Cookie” Battles

Son in Crisis

Sometimes when we feel pain it’s not about ourselves even though it hurts like hell. My son suffers from metal, behavior and physical disorders. I feel like a complete failure when it comes to him. I can’t even keep the things for myself straight so sometimes I can forget to give him meds. That’s the worst thing in the world. Then he gets meds for one month and his next appointment is three months from now. I don’t even know how to go about getting more. I call the clinic I don’t know how many times a week trying to get answers to no avail. They just keep telling me that I have to see this doctor in three months. His counselor that I loved who said that he would be available and to try to reach him at anytime. The one who further proved his point by giving me his cell phone number. He seemed to connect with my son and was excited to get to work with him. After two visits and a call in sick I have not been able to get in touch with him which has been at least three weeks. Then I fall more ill than usual and it’s the start of school which he hates.

So of course again two days before his  1^st mental doctor appointment and his 2^nd treatment plan. His mood disorder goes into overdrive and he ends up in the mental hospital one again. I wake up to him calling me and catch myself calling him in the middle of the day . Then tears drown my face and my heart aches because I feel like I placed him there. I know that I can’t chase him when he runs away, I can’t hold him down when he wants to fight not me but himself. So what else can I do? 

Good girl

Good Girl

How long am I suppose to be the good girl?

The one that always gets shitted on.

But keeps the smile on her face just the same.

To be hunted by her tormentor and he’s not even dead.

Speak they ask and she does,

Care they ask and she does,

Pray the ask and she does,

Even though it kills her inside a little every time.

First she was raped and told that she wasn’t.

How could they know they weren’t there?

Then pushed aside for the sake of the children.

Wasn’t she to a child?

She was before that Bastard took that from her too!

Does anyone care about her feelings?

Does anyone give a damn?

Hiding in the corner trying to forget the embarrassment.

But she can never live it down no matter how hard she tries.

Every time she lays with a man it plays in her head

Pain she wants to forget but she doesn’t know how.

It’s compound by the fact that she has to be the good girl yet again.

Comforting, and sympathetic while people speak proudly of what a good man he is…

My chest is bubbling over in anger!

I have forgiven him but not the situation!

Not the Fucked up sexual situations that I ended up in.

Not the hatred that I feel for myself!

Not for the relationships it has ruined!

Not the memories that plague me!

I am tired of holding it all in!

Acting like there is nothing wrong,

When all the while there is.

When do I get to let my pain out,

To let it go without being the bad guy?

It shaped my life you know.

I can never put myself first

Someone always comes before.

And I’m tired!

Tried of being good!

And tired of the abuse!

So I ask again How long am I suppose to be the good girl?

-Cookie

My Paradox

My Paradox

How can you be the victim of a crime and still the one at fault?

How can a secret still be a secret if you tell everyone you know?

How can someone too weak to hold a child carry the burdens of a man?

It’s too confusing to comprehend?

Step into my paradox…

How can I be over something that I think about everyday?

Cry dry tears that stream down my face.

Can’t show to much real emotion,

Might get figured out.

Step into my paradox…

Helping everyone else

To prevent helping my self

It’s a trick no one sees but me

Like children playing hind and go seek

Step into my paradox…

The only place where you can find me

Is in these words I speak my peace

Verbs and nouns brain and soul meet

Around the bend here we go again

Step into my paradox…

I know it’s past time for me to let it go

And I’m trying to everyday

But I’ve got to do it in my way

Travel with me or stay behind

Step into my paradox…

Am I a good girl or am I bad

Feel my feelings happy or sad

A smile on my face doesn’t mean I’m glad

A bout of laugher might mean I’m mad.

Step into my paradox…

A winding road under a rickety bridge

Slippery slope and I have slid.

A bumpy path with a fork in the road

Navigation on Spanish mode

Step into my paradox…

Am I up or am I down

A brand new queen with a broken crown

I want this feeling to go away

I want to leave but I have to stay

Step into my paradox…

I’m getting it out the best way I know how

I’m putting pen to pad writing this thing down

Because I’m not trying to hold on

I want to be free

Breaking out of my paradox…

-Cookie