Her man, her lover, her friend.
Everything she wanted, everything she needed
In a man, she found in him
Head and shoulders above the rest he stood
Kneel in front of her, he would.
Lay his jacket over a puddle
Just so she wouldn’t mess up her stilettos.
He was a gentleman.
Opening doors, pulling out chairs
At her eyes instead of her breast he would stare
During their conversations
Well. he knew when and when not to look
And with no hesitation
Could perfectly time his bedroom eyes
If presented itself – the situation
He could read her like a book
Physically, they connected, he had her hooked
If he wanted her, he would take her
And she would just smile and gladly consider herself took
He had her . sprung, giddy, . loose.
Extroverts between the sheets they were
No hyperbole or exaggeration – fact, truth
Like a lollipop she treated him, he too had a sweet tooth
Always giving her Hershey Kisses
Had her climbin the walls, yelling Baby
At the top of her lungs you can ask their neighbor Ruth
She’ll tell you, their sessions were on repeat
Like Big Tigger everyday in the booth
Breakin her off like Tariq from The Roots
Much, much more.
He was good to the soul like a bowl of soup
He elevated her self esteem, treated her like a queen
Held her while they would sleep
Always found a way into her dreams
Nurtured her beauty internally
Said she ruled everything around him, called her c.r.e.a.m.
Daredevils they were, no matter the scene
PDA from PG to NC-17
They laughed at the silliest of things
No topic of conversation was out of their reach
Didn’t always agree, break up to make up
Anger didn’t get in the way of their ability. to connect
Make up they always did, often times
Sending each other to work with evidence on their necks
Good or bad they gave it all they had
They were each other’s now, there were no thoughts of next
Or the past, never disloyal, “keep it 100”
Was the slang that governed their respect
However their future together wasn’t blessed. enough.
For the lack of a better word
The best one to describe the break up was.. tough
For the lack of a better word
When someone would ask what happened, she’d say.. “stuff”
For the lack of a better expression she’d bluff
With a smile like aything is cool
But erything wasn’t, it took her awhile to get over her boo
When she thinks about him now
It’s like thinking of the good ol days in school.
The type of man women say are hard to find
Somehow they’re overlooked
Like an old hardcover with material they should read
A lot of women just don’t pick up the book
For whatever reason they let cupid’s arrow
Be touched by the hands of crooks
With her heart, too much she pushed
Forcing him to open his eyes
Where he wasn’t quite ready to look
But regrets, she has none,
Shed a few tears, but is no longer hooked
It was worth the plate of emotions she never felt
She’s looking forward to a new cook, elated
Still will treasure the memories they created
If they’re meant to be, they’ll come back around
Is what she believes, but now is not the time
So moving on, she won’t delay it
However, every now and then
She thinks about words and how he would say it
PDA and how he would display it
Between the sheets, down, how he would lay it
That thing she would do, how he would crave it
A silly note she would write, how he would save it
When the waiter gave them the bill
How she would have to fight with him to pay it
No matter what mood she was in
The perfect song, how he always seemed to play it
But when she applies the then to now
She wonders how it would be
Would they still cuddle?
Listen to melodies as they fell asleep?
Would the physical connection still be off the chain?
Could the emotions they had be regained?
Is forgiveness overrated?
Would they love each other the same?
Do mutual feelings within still remain?…
Questions that may never be answered
Since she’s just reminiscing
She knows the past is the past
And that they both have new futures with limitations
That don’t go beyond certain fascinations
Like a past satisfaction
It can only be a mental simulation
So she laughs cause
It’s pointless to even think of the equation.
In her steps, no hesistation
Just more cat in her walk
Demanding every man’s attention
As if she was outlined in chalk
And because he was, the bar is raised
Before you approach
Think before you open your mouth to talk
Among other thangs
He was… Me.
This is the 4 page letter I received
She was my heart
But in our relationship I wasn’t ready to root deep
Wanted to bark at the leaves
Branch out and mingle with other trees
Thought I wanted to get Free
Cause my eyes couldn’t help but chase
Every woman that looked like her
On the other side of the fence
No grass just concrete
Gold diggers and tv dinners
With ice chunks in the meat
No love, just l u s t
Living a new sitcom
Thinking of the Good Times on repeat
He was… Me.
But I was a fool to leave
She loved me for me
Lacked Mini tendencies
Women I’ve met recently
Are only attracted to the cheese
I tell em to raise up off of deez..
Since she left, I’ve been treatin ’em like a lease..
Quick to dismiss for the slightest of things.
Introduce them as my friend
When we hook up with others at the spot to meet.
And even when I decide to kick it
Best believe my shoes stay on my feet
He was… Me.
And for her I would leave
The one I’m with, a rebound
Praying for the opportunity
To come back in bounds
But my pride gave her wings
While restricting me to the ground
She’s lookin to discover
I’m lookin to be found like a dog in the pound
In her circumference, I just want to be around
Thinkin of that pretty round thing
Twins, I called em mounds
10 on the scale with a personality to match
She was my queen
And she treated me like I wore a crown
Yet our disagreements negatively went down
We both said things we didn’t mean
She made me cuss and frown
I made her cry me a river
So in the tears, paddling frustrated, we drowned
Gone our separate ways
But frequent in the same town
I got a blues for her, as if her name is Nina
A brotha to the night GQ’d up in button downs
Wearing her favorite cologne
Hopin I bump into her in a crowd
Pull up next to her at a light
From her hip, purse, or case of the fat fingers
Get an accidental dial
Hopin my voice reaches her speakerbox
Whenever I hit the stage at the lounge
Clutchin the mic, eyes closed
When I speak rhythmically, emotionally blue
The pain can be felt in my sound.