WeAintSlavesNoMore + HandleWithCare + LayInYoHair.

WeAintSlavesNoMore

“Such an uncomfortable world to procreate in.”

A casual Thursday twisting her fingers over and understitching closed the once ripped pair of jeans.

“Now run along and break something else you lil tax write off.”

Taylor had what some referred to as an unconventional sense of humor this included but clearly wasn’t limited to religion, politics and pretty much anything a majority would consider taboo. Her first marriage ended with a couple stab wounds in her ex-husband Frank stomach. One cloudy night on the way home from a family dinner, Frank thought it was a good idea to hit Taylor too fully express his anger and establish his respect as a man.

“I stabbed the shit out that motha’ fucka’, nigga was walking silly for months on eggshells, ya hear me !? You couldn’t catch him in a kitchen, I pull out a plastic knife he just might have a flashback. I bet he never put his hands on me again, I promise you that.”

It wasn’t just the lack of remorse but also the level of respect Taylor demanded as a woman that inspired the thirteen-year-old Sierra. The daughter of a southern baptist pastor, would Sierra ever understand one’s heaven is another ones hell. Only time would tell.

WeAintSlavesNoMore

mor·alˈmôrəl/ adjective concerned with the principles of right and wrong behavior and the goodness or badness of human character.

A Priest, a Preacher and a Pimp all board a ship at the same damn time.

“Ain’t that a bitch!?” Asked the Pimp.

“God built this?” Inquired the Preacher.

“We make the rules” Yelled the Priest pulling up his pants.

He was so offended he didn’t shake my hand. You can grow in a church

that doesn’t make you worthy. Just cause you in the streets don’t make you dirty.

The Preacher asked for offering actin’ like he didn’t hear me.

The Pimp recited versus off the bodies of whores who didn’t like women

colder than December, they enjoyed sinning, pussy always trending.

That part got both the Priest and Preachers full attention.

“How long since your last confession?”

“Can I get a witness?”

“Money over Bitches?”

Morals …

don’t be funny, you can’t buy that.

I could be bitter decided life was better without that.

WeAintSlavesNoMore

……..

HandleWithCare

It feels good to dance with your soul mate in a dark room of humor,

you both get it.

Think of the person who brings the sun even on the darkest, rainiest, shittiest of days. With open arms and grace, they don’t scrutinize passions and goals rather motivate you towards accomplishing them. The feeling you get when you know that person really cares, this emotional connection is so rare.

HandleWithCare

LayInYoHair

We met, we drank then kissed all night at the bar. Drugs and alcohol added to the noise what was there to be distracted for? Her, Who, How, Whatever after a while our bodies cooled down. She begged for me to cum see her in the morning, but I didn’t fuck her.

– In every group of friends there is always one who couldn’t fathom any reason ever except for std’s, of course, to pass over on sex and they sound like

“Wait! What! You didn’t fuck her!? Why?”

I let her know I wasn’t rambling, falling in love is like gambling.

Kiss me I will kiss you back wherever you want

if only 4U it feels right.

I’ve called before a came so many times,

forgot their names and never called again.

I wanna lay in yo hair,

If I touch you I’m gonna wanna love you again,

then fuck all the pretendin’ n shit

I wanna make you cum again and all over again.

LayInYoHair.