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  • Duchess-Simone

Prisoner of the Tongue



So that's it. I take it you've somehow forgotten how to communicate or something? It's mad dudes in my DM's with their tongues out, pump faking like they want to meet on business just to get my attention, meanwhile you're camped out somewhere leaving me on 'seen'. Just tripping, acting like we don't have important matters to discuss, activities to enact, and invoices to reconcile. You're acting as if you have never made time to tell me that you can't make time for me. I was always cool with that. Always. I never flipped out about things like that, and if I remember correctly you said you loved that about me. You said that that's what made me special, different from the others. You sure have a funny way of showing favoritism. Tell me big fella, what's your system? How you rank them?


It would seem that expressing gratitude isn’t really your thing. I mean seriously though, is this as far as it goes? I wish I knew what had my attention while I absentmindedly passed by the DEAD END sign at the intersection. It surely wasn't your potential that had me hooked because if you can recall, I wasn't looking for much, perhaps a couple fucks, nice things like tables with fine views while we dine for dinners and such. I didn't have expectations outside of transparency, respect and mutual trust. Those were ground rules, but you won’t wake up and smell the coffee; our blend was strong.


You were cool with my crazy and I was alright with your weird, I embraced it. That's what made you cute. I sought understanding when really, I could have just offed you like I did "them other n***s" you so affectionately refer to them as. I could have been more harsh and abrasive, you know being emotive is a struggle for me. But not once did I align you with my challenges. I found the ease in adapting a practical approach with the intent of making things naturally flow. I wasn't trying to be all up in my feelings, but clearly you don't like it when I mind my business.


How... just how is it that I embody everything you need, tell you everything I want, command what I deserve, give you what you want, and you still don't know what to do with me? You be trying to give me everything other than what I asked for, starting with your ass to kiss. What's the issue? It's totally OK if you say that it's me. I can handle being told I'm the issue. I want to be the problem for a n***a. Gave you clear instructions on how we could avoid me having to go off on you like this. It's hard to shut me up when I get going. I'm senseless and I don't have a filter, for real. You must not like sincere Duchess, because you've exhausted all your chances. But you haven't paid that too much attention. You dismissed my warning signs just as much as I ignored your DEAD END sign. Two fools together. We're a match made in heaven. You're the only one who doesn't see it.


We know I’m a sucker for the distance, but you took things too damn far. I used to always blame myself just to clear the air even if I wasn't wrong. You never jump the gun on proposing resolve. So I said fuck it, made a game of it, and ain't ashamed to say working you to satisfaction made us both come twice as hard. It worked for me. But this time around my dear friend not only am I’m not impressed, but your apathy causes my lady parts to wither. I can't even muster the audacity or the fucks to blame myself.


But hold on, let me be objective. I hold a high standard of accountability, so let me be honest for myself. Let me think about if it’s really my fault for allowing this to happen?


Was it me that pushed too far for too long?


Nahhh, that can’t be it. I can't accept that. Denial maybe?

However, I'm on the outside looking in so I need to vent in order to better assess.


There’s no reason as to why you do me like this? Are you bored with the Purple? Was I just phase? Finally fed up with my hair dye staining your pillowcase? Nah, it can’t be the Purple. You professed to love that shit, but you were probably just gassing me the entire time. Thank God my love of self doesn’t ride the wave of your praise, because honey, the banks have dried.


I started off on the good foot, I did. I put my best foot forward, but just know I could have been selfish and obsessive with you. I could have exercised more crazy than I did sexy and cool. I stayed immersed in my own life, which in turn gave you the space you needed to breathe freely. Really, I only noticed your absence during the times I'd come up for air. But you've managed to develop this disgusting habit of not being there. This is the thanks I get for not pressing you every ten minutes? Gee, being selfless with men like you leave me feeling lonely and deprived. You must feel so great about yourself to have succeeded in huemanizing me. Your elusiveness makes me insane. When I blink my eyes, I see a thousand of you imprinted on my eyelids resembling a kaleidoscope. The finest menagerie of those charming eyes, that handsome smile, and all the deception in between.


Why?


Do you have to be so dismissive? Does being on your terms really require you to be relentless? You've stood by me while I endured the worst, you know I'm strong. You just assume that because you can attest to my strength, I can handle the brunt of your bitterness? That doesn’t give you the license to trot and trample over my ego. You used to tread lightly. You were gentle because you knew I was fragile. Your rejection is testing my sobriety. You always had a thing for taking me past my limit. Sad part is, that's what I love about you. You lead me on, then leave me on, alone and under your influence. Your absence means I have to hold my own hair back as I regurgitate and reiterate the notions of your false security. I’ve been missing your presence unbelievably so, the way you’re stalling on my fix is unethical. You're spending all this time away, and making me pay for what you owe! Your stubbornness makes my bed cold. I must be your least favorite person right now, forget the color. You're acting like Purple was never etched in the rainbow that carried you over! You're somewhere enjoying your pot of gold doing what, only God knows, and I’m over here clenching this pillow in between my legs irritated to know that you rather be somewhere else, probably in the bed of a woman with pretty long hair for you to play in.


I wish this pillow was you. I wish you were laying in between my legs, using my thighs as pillows to rest your head. I wish you needed me.


I'm doing my best to play my part, but your role in the last few scenes was pretty fucked up.


Your poor judgment in character is compromising my sanity like you wouldn't believe. You claim to hate when I berate you like this, but I can't tell.


Seems like it's the only way to get your attention.


I gotta threaten your independence and show my ass just to get you to listen?

That's rough. Or is that love?