As I sit and embrace the meaning of the written word, I have no choice but to conform to your hidden agenda, your idolatry to hurt the ways that I feel and I write these poems, when I'm most vulnerable, at night, because I get in my feelings, but I am more intimate at this time of day because no one ever told me that it was to early to get your dick hard or that you cannot eat sushi while master bating

but it's just physically impossible to eat something and touch something raw, at the same time...so you cannot kiss me and tell me that you love me at the same time, unless you have a second tongue that you're not telling me about

so you have proven that I am a cosmic connected sucka who can only listen to my foundation and my screams of agony and I don't mean to sound desperate, but you couldn't tell anybody that you were messing with a thick brotha, who kisses with an extensive vocabulary and your pain that you have inflicted, is the shell that encloses your understanding, so in actuality, you cannot trust this physician because I do not have the qualifications or degrees, to show compassion or treat your skeptical attitude that has twisted my words into inflexible hours that has STABBED, *whoa whoa, pause, it's not that deep, I never told you that I loved you* First of all, keep in mind that you are the patient, meaning that I'm the one who does the talking I mean operating, and you are the one who suffers from my extended metaphors and double entendres....

I am a woman of the written word, in which let's me know that I can be a man with infinite possibilities, no faults or fallacies about me... Sea Shells from Sally... As you roll your ignorance into this blunt, you take a puff of me, and leave my feelings in wonderland with Alice  but They say that curiosity killed the cat but pleasure kept him coming back...so you crawl back to me, and spitting the same shit that made Beyonce fill the tub up half way because she knew that the only way to please her man was to take her clothes off and let her soul be devoured in liquor...

this is for the women, that you cannot let him beat your naked soul because it's usually cold in your room at this time of night, your body is God's temple, let the click in your hills be your secret, if you weave than you can achieve but if it touches yo ass than you're moving to fast, have him make love to your soul and learn the human anatomy before the facilitation of sexual intercourse, he is the tuition seeker, don't be in love with the moment and defiantly not a temporary lust...

you are beautiful, the satisfaction of God's creation and you can tell them that Donye will ensure that you need no man to prove otherwise

  But always remember... Your past, your present, and your future are three of many things that cannot be stored without confessing your demons... So It's time for confessions...and admit that you need me...