Fuck bitches, get money. (Confessions of a Workaholic)

Confidently concealed.
Kept under wraps.
Enshrouded with booby traps.
I am one tough cookie.

Maluhine.
The outsider.
Not of this land.
Not affiliated with the similar,
I don't match,
I am my own& I strictly do me.
I'm hard to get to for a reason;
Out of your league,
cuz there's no way in hell
that ima fall under a category with others.
A wildflower all my own.
Fuck the identical bought boquets you can pick up at any corner.
(Roses really smell like boobooboo.)
Vibrantly voluptuous.
Too much for you to handle,
cuz if you can't handle me at my worst,
you sure as hell don't deserve me at my best.
You need to get right or get left.

Roots run too deep for you to even begin to comprehend.
Educated by the best: my own mistakes.
Fool me once, shame on you;
Fool me twice, shame on me.
Learn& live.
I don't have time to play games;
Even if I did,
I'd be ten steps ahead of ya.
I'll never let em see me sweat.
I'm too cute for that =)
All I'll give you is my index, middle& ring finger,
&I'll leave it up to you to read between the lines.
I wouldn't give you the time of day for anything else.

I must confess,
I've always had a mistress.
I just gotta let you know.
She always has time for me,
&she gives me a break when I need it.
Treats me good& I like to call her my sugar momma.
It's work.
I'll always put her first cuz she don't fuck me over,
&play me like a fool.
Hey, maybe it's just the lust for money talking,
but
She makes me happy.

I just wanna write
write til I finish the ink in my favorite pen
write til my callous is rough& rugged
write til my wrist aches from the curves of my barcode-looking handwriting
write til my feelings bleed onto the paper like some freak accident.
I write
cuz it's easy to control what I say,
when I say it,
&to whom I am saying it.
I have the power to delete, backspace& erase.
When I write,
my silences are never awkward
Pauses are intentional
&I can make you hang on to my words even after they are written
cuz these words have bled into your mind as if it was underneath this sheet of paper.

I read cuz
there is a definite beginning, middle& end.
I can identify the hero &villain
&know the outcome before the story ends.
It's an escape.

I live in my surreality.

P.S. I don't play games.

Pick my brain.
Push my buttons.
Pluck the wings off these butterflies that escaped.
Make me look like the bad guy
Cuz as much as you say I'm playin games,
I really don't care for winning.
I'll be the loser& we'll call it a day,
cuz I'd rather take the heat than run up, down& around these chutes& ladders.
Goin' at it back &forth does not float my boat,
&neither does trying to convince someone that I'm not out to hurt them.

Yeah, I'm, wishy-washy.
No, I don't want to let anyone in.
So what?
You knew from the jump that I'm not perfect,
&I didn't even have to tell you that.
Can you blame me?

P.s.
Thanks for removing my writer's block.
As much as I avoid writing about crushes, admiration, &heartache,
I guess that's what thawed out my notebook that I been preserving for so long.

P.s.s.
I don't regret anything.
The cookie didn't go bad.
That's why I brush my teeth before I feel the ache,
cuz I'd rather be safe than sorry.
I can always fill my cavities;
Just give me some time& I'll call it a lesson learned.
Just like my third molars that are growing in;
Hurts like a bitch, but they call em wisdom teeth for a reason.

staying up til 6am.

so I wanted to try you on for size
&it turns out
I love how your hand fit perfectly in mine
&what can I say?
I'm simply taken by your rugged rudeness
yet the presence of your manners still throws me off-
in a good way, of course.
Weird how
all the little things I prefer-
are found in you,
down to the dimples&
"Idon'tgiveafuck" attitude.
Even crazier that-
my confidence doesn't phase you;
you know that I'm deathly afraid to get hurt once more...
&that I'm totally aware of these band aids that don't heal-
that simply cover up the scars until the adhesives wear out.
What a silly hopeless attempt,
that you seem to see right through.

Honestly,
in all honesty,
I'm too scared to enjoy how we finish each other's sentences
or be content with the fact that we have more inside jokes
than I have ever had with anyone in my entire life,
cuz I don't wanna push you away like I have the rest.
Although they were coo,
we just didn't fit-
not even half as much as how me& you do.
I've pushed down the butterflies til their wings tickle the crevices of my insides.
Which is why I randomly giggle.

wait.
nothing.
nevermind.

(so when I went to Virgin mobile& asked the fortune cookie if I liked you
it told me to try the egg roll.
Do I like you?)
Hmm...
So how about them Giants?

I'll never admit it.
it'll be our little secret.
Like the change in weather,
&the phone number I call you on.
Even though you're all over myspace &away messages.
So I guess I'll let a butterfly or two out with this poem
that I've been holding in for quite some time-
&see how kindly you react to them.