March 21, 2005
Then one day, he called me from jail. The next day I got the kite he had sent in the mail. Now if this ain’t the greatest love of all, I don’t know what is. I put up my house for his bail. When he came home, I finally gave him some tail. When he was on house arrest with the ankle bracelet, I let him pass me work over the fence. When I brought back the money he kept the dollars, but I kept the sense. He only remembers that night in the hole, I just keep hoping he don’t violate his parole. He was playing me with some other bitch, I was just playing the role. He slay me with that shit. For real though. He wanted me to be his kitchen slave. I told him if I didn’t love him so much, I’d microwave. Everyone’s doing it, it’s all the rage. “Well if everybody jumped off a bridge, would you jump off one too?” he asked me. He called me his boo. I told him go jump off a bridge, and stop acting new. “I know about them other chicks, the ones on the lollipop, trying to get in their licks,” I told him. “I ain’t about that,” I said.
Then I showed him. I met up with money he cop weight from, and I blowed him. Hit him off something lovely, as a matter of fact. “Where were you baby?” he asked when I got back. Now if I told him the truth he’d catch a heart attack. So I just said, “Are you hungry darlin’? Let me get you a snack.” Later that night, when we were in bed, I was just trying to dream, but he woke me up instead. We were burrowed under the covers, fire crackling in the hearth. He said “Woman, let’s get married.” I couldn’t say it, but I thought it, “I wouldn’t marry you if you was the last knucka on Earth.” You won’t catch me nine months knocked up with his child, about to give birth. He’s just temporary, something to pass the time. To him I’m very necessary, something too divine. In the beginning, he knew he wasn’t winning. He should have bounced out before we started sinning.
Now I just tell him, “Do what you want, be what you are.” I know I should break out, before this goes too far. But love don’t live here anymore, I’m just wishing on a star. All this heartbreak, it was just in the cards. See papa was a rolling stone, he showed me the evil that men do, how they leave you alone. He left my mama the house, but she said “It’s not a home.” Now we standing back to back, instead of soul to soul. We both know we’re losing, but we keep on movin’. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, you feel so good.” It’s always the same thing, he’s got money on his mind and sex on the brain. If I thought he’d listen, maybe I’d explain how my love is a gun. That he’s gonna need a bulletproof soul. I’ve still never seen a man cry, and long ago I stopped asking why. I have a gift, to overlook the whatifs. If a man ain’t a hardcore killer, he’s a punk and a sissy. If I looked more like Jada, then maybe he’d kiss me. If I hadn’t did him so dirty, then maybe he’d miss me. If I wasn’t a stranger, I’d be pissed how he dissed me. If I was one of them bitches, I’d be acting all prissy. If I was one of them hoes, he’d be like “get on your knees and please me.” But I ain’t, so he think “all this bitch do is tease me.” And he know I don’t, he just talkin real greasy.
But he ain’t got nothin’ to say, besides, “Damn, Ma, be easy!”