Are You a Romance Writer? | Just Effing Entertain Me

Are You a Romance Writer? | Just Effing Entertain Me

Lonely

It all seems a colossal waste.

I sit trying to write about the angst of love lost,

When I’m still waiting to be favored by love.

What is the point?

Pretending doesn’t lessen the loneliness,

It’s still a crushing weight carried around daily.

I force smiles I don’t feel, because they’re all looking..

Hold in an ocean of tears that want to pour out,

A ravaging tsunami of pain.

I can almost smile at the drama of it all,

If it didn’t hurt so fucking much.

If I didn’t randomly scream with the agony of it all.

Piled on top is guilt, because I know the Almighty has a plan for me.

I know that this desire will be fulfilled.

I understand that this desire isn’t a curse even if it feels like a weapon.

My heart keeps crying, When, o’ Lord?

Have mercy upon thy servant and send my promise.

Even in despair, in an ocean  of deception,

I know my hope will bear fruit.

It’s like it would be okay to be home if he were also.

Since he’s not, it’s like why am I here.

Do you miss me, too?

Do you long for me as I do you?

Tempted to betray our commitment.

I can’t though.

When I think of giving in to a lie.

It’s like your ring is already on my hand and I don’t have the right to it.

Besides, it would be a lie.

Another substitute, code name Duracell.

Not someone I can cuddle up against in love.

Not someone to share dreams with, to hope with.

Someone to support and be supported by.

No, I don’t want a lie.

I want you and, dammit, you’re taking your time.

Do you think the same of me?

That I’m dragging my feet?

Are you sitting with your boys wondering what I’m doing?

I’m writing to you.

Missing you.

Forcing myself to find meaning in the delay.

Know that I wait for you and you alone.

To you I remain true.

(c) Pamela Shropshire 2011

Color Still Matters

I don’t recall a time when I have felt as hurt. It is a different kind of hurt. I am beyond words and I feel helpless in the face of it. Made to feel as though I have done something wrong, when I was simply trying to do what normal people do. I am stuck in a place of confusion; hopefully writing this will take me to a better place.

It is 2011, almost 2012, and when you see me, you still see a nigga. You still see someone less than you. I am angry. More at myself than you, because I allowed you the power to wound me. You are who you are, as all people like you are; it is up to me to love and respect who I am . It is my responsibility not to allow you the power to affect my self-perspective.

You follow me because I meet some thought in your mind of someone who is not to be trusted. I confront you, because I can’t live with leaving without asking. I sincerely want to understand what I did that placed me on your radar. Due to my own thinking and logic, I am forced to think beyond my race. I am unable to believe that you truly don’t trust me because of my tan.

Looking at the past, I see the struggle that people have faced due to racism. Blacks in this country have faced being beaten, raped, maimed and killed because of the color of their skin. I just got followed around a store. In the grand scheme of things, what I suffered was minor. Still, as minor as it was, I felt like a physical blow was delivered by the behavior.

I guess, my question is when will it stop? When will we see people as people? Is it possible to ever see people as one people without race classification? I have joked about race in my adult life. There was overt and not so obvious racism in my family. Still, I have friends of all races because I find in them some likeness that brings us together as friends.

It’s not all about white or black power. There is prejudice and preconceived notions about a variety of races. Stereotypes that cause people to look at people with cruelty and hatred. Things that may be perceived as a “joke” or meant to be funny, can cause pain and anger. These behaviors can incite violence.

When I asked the young man why he was following me, he laughed and said I’m not following anyone. It wasn’t a large store, still, if you are wherever I am, lurking to watch me, what should I think? The perception is not good. So when? Perhaps I’m being overly sensitive. Perhaps I took it the whole wrong way.

But I wanted to understand. I wanted to understand why? How dramatic is that? Still, I didn’t get an answer. I got a laugh and a shrug. So what now? I started to call and speak to the manager just to tell him how I felt. In the end I thought, what’s the point? So now, I’m just processing how in 2011, I’m still a nigger. How in 2011 I’m still the object of scorn and suspicious.

Maybe I will never know the answer to that question. Maybe it’s because there must be evil, because there is good. Perhaps the only point to this blog is to purge the poison of the incident from my soul. In spite of this incident, I still love all of my friends, black, white, red, yellow, whatever. I love them and count them as a part of me because despite the difference in color, there is a sameness of spirit that makes us one.

All he did was display his ignorance and miss out on the opportunity to show enlightenment. I am at peace.