I still think about you.
It’s never in a nice way.

It’s amazing how
a year ago
the mention of your name
made my heart and my pussy

These days
I find myself
comparing you to
my current lover.
These are moments
I don’t want to be in.
I want to be the big one
who rises above
the pettiness of
Yet, even as I draw lines
of understanding
between who I was around you
and who I am now
comparisons fall away,
fade away

you didn’t have
the skill,
the stamina,
the emotional maturity,
to measure accurately against him
(and his dick is bigger).
My heart and pussy
clench for him,
around him now.
He never
hurt me
to fuck me

I still think about you.
It’s never in a nice way.

I feel that
to compare you two,
you ten years older than him,
more rutted and maudlin
more in love with the dark side
the smell of yourself
and your hypochondriac meandering
is a disservice to his bright energy
the gift of his willingness
and the superiority of his
skill in my bed.
It’s not just about the sex though.

It’s about more than that.

We don’t tell lies.

I still think about you.
It’s never in a nice way.

It’s always as a signpost,
a marking in the road
that tells me,
the difference between
boys and men
and how age has nothing to do with it.

You’ve taught me the difference
between chalk
and cheese,
And I’ve learnt the consequences of breaking
a constitution
hard fought for,
hard won.

I still think about you.
It’s never in a nice way.

I wonder who else you are fooling
with your
‘nice guy’ routine.
I wonder who’s girl child you are
softening up
so that
maybe one day
sexual crumbs from lonely souls will fall off the table
and onto your lap.
I wonder who else you are
that you ‘care’ and that
you are ‘there for them’.

I still think about you.
It’s never in a nice way.

I am however
not holding a grudge.
Okay, I lie.
Sometimes I think this grudge
will be a part of me forever.
I think, I must hold on to
the memory of what you did to me
so I will never make those mistakes

So I don’t.

Yet… when I think of you
It’s with a smile
grim and knowing.
A self knowing smile.

So it’s never in a nice way.
it is thought with
a kind of gratefulness
to be free of your lies,
your emotional malformations and
your rank cowardice.
How could I have thought
a crab could match a tigress?

I still think of you sometimes
It’s never in a nice way.

I occasionally
attempt to find
the differences between
you and me
me and him.

What lies at the core of the differences?

between he and I.
of fearlessness.
of willingness.

Unflinching and unreserved.

So there is no way for
the line to run alongside
not for long.

The story between he and I
and the line of
the past

With my relief in it’s wake.

I still think of you sometimes
but never in a nice way.

One day I will stop thinking about you.

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The Vault


mermaid, dayo's mama, water priestess, chaNjuzu, writer, web developer, omo yemoja, dos aguas, obsessive reader, sci-fi fan, trini-bajan, combermerian, second life, music, music, music!