tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-61138586378202899042024-02-19T06:21:58.881-09:00confessions of a confused nigerian girlbecause.leggyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14989088139010700349noreply@blogger.comBlogger115125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6113858637820289904.post-65989706619111870072019-04-26T17:41:00.001-08:002019-04-26T17:41:30.469-08:00This is the one where I finally write about you.I'm so tired of love that has to pretend that it's not love.<br />
My heartbeat has turned into an alarm that won't be snoozed,<br />
I want to rip it out and toss it across the room<br />
where you stood and devoured all of me with your tongue<br />
and then begged me for more.<br />
Last christmas,<br />
I held you like it was the last beautiful thing I would ever see,<br />
filled your mouth with as much charm as I could pretend to muster<br />
but it still wasn't enough for you.<br />
I am homesick for a person who has only held me once<br />
I have undressed in front of you, stripped myself of skin,<br />
untangled myself from the doubts<br />
and asked you to love me.<br />
but love, for you, was just something to do<br />
until the new year started.<br />
<br />
<br />
<i>Leggy.</i>leggyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14989088139010700349noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6113858637820289904.post-70585906921403417532018-03-23T21:25:00.002-08:002018-03-23T21:25:47.367-08:00Last WordsIt ended<br />
and look,<br />
You're still alive.<br />
The days are still stumbling by,<br />
life did not end.<br />
He left,<br />
and you did not fall.<br />
<i><b><br /></b></i>
<i><b><br /></b></i>
<i><b>Leggy.</b></i>leggyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14989088139010700349noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6113858637820289904.post-84701289861409970382018-02-14T18:33:00.000-09:002018-03-23T21:25:57.370-08:00Just Love Me<div style="text-align: right;">
I don't know when love began to smell like you</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
But it comes and curls insanely around my legs and refuses to let go</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
This love is a love that does not beg or want to be noticed</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
this is a wake up on a wednesday morning and go to work kind of love</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
this love just wants to lie on a couch too small for two bodies, legs tangled, </div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
watching bad television.</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
I know that you're only visiting this body </div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
but who wouldn't want to vacation from their real life here?</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
with me?</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
I'm trying to be a good host,</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
i'm petitioning the sun to shine a little quieter today.</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
the earth to slow down on its rotation around the sun</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
Everything has been quieted darling,</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
so what are you waiting for?</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
please, just love me.</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<i>Leggy</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i><br /></i>
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
p.s - opened a book blog with a friend - <a href="http://www.twonightstands.com/blog">www.twonightstands.com/blog</a> please check us out.</div>
</div>
leggyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14989088139010700349noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6113858637820289904.post-48914353022665654712017-09-17T18:13:00.000-08:002017-09-17T18:13:22.450-08:00The thing is...i do not know how to not be this loud.<div>
how to sit back and laugh like my tongue is dipped in cherries and honey</div>
<div>
how to shut up and bite my tongue even when i should</div>
<div>
i do not know how to stop halfway, how to back away from things that are not mine</div>
<div>
i do not know how to not claim territory, </div>
<div>
i feel like no matter how loud i am people don't hear me</div>
<div>
i do not know how to pretend that you haven't hurt me</div>
<div>
i do not know how to make you love me.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
i want to be a safe place for you</div>
<div>
but i do not know how to dim this fierce thing i feel</div>
<div>
you bring out all the sharp places in me, </div>
<div>
and i do not mean to constantly draw blood when you come to me for safety</div>
<div>
i do not know how to be this person you want me to be</div>
<div>
i do not know how to simmer.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
this thing between us is cheap and vulgar but i fully bought into it knowing that</div>
<div>
i stumbled upon you with hands covered in sin and alcohol</div>
<div>
i wasn't expecting anything holy.</div>
<div>
and i stay when you tell me that she's the well you have to drink from or you'd die of thirst</div>
<div>
and i'm the desert.</div>
<div>
i stay when you come to me with blindfolds and ease</div>
<div>
i stay because you make my spine throb on your good days</div>
<div>
and i stay because i wake up choked in tears on your bad days</div>
<div>
and either way, at least you make me feel something</div>
<div>
i stay because to stay stimulated even when i have no stomach for it, even when i want to crumble every time you reach for me makes me feel alive.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
after my fifth glass of cheap wine</div>
<div>
i forget that i can still taste her on your lips</div>
<div>
i pretend that this thing is real and special</div>
<div>
i can only love you when i'm drunk</div>
<div>
only in the dark,</div>
<div>
only on nights when i need to burrow into flesh</div>
<div>
the thing is,</div>
<div>
i stay because i cannot leave.</div>
<div>
because where would i start picking up the pieces of your life you have left all over my couch?</div>
<div>
which cities would i have to start avoiding?</div>
<div>
i envy those women,</div>
<div>
who smell like cinnamon and never settle for less.</div>
<div>
i stay because secretly, i want to break your heart</div>
<div>
i want to plant mines under your skin </div>
<div>
that i hope your future lovers find.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The thing is,</div>
<div>
by God, i'm so tired of writing about you</div>
<div>
and all the ways i'm breaking my own heart.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<i>leggy.</i></div>
leggyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14989088139010700349noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6113858637820289904.post-2385806702150076382017-04-20T02:27:00.001-08:002017-04-20T02:27:24.181-08:00Disappearing.<br />
<br />
<div>
In a bid not to become your mother, you have become the women your dad fucks to remind himself what a real human being feels like.<br />
he has turned your mother into a ghost of herself,<br />
made her supplicate at his feet for years,<br />
and left her to fuck women who are exactly who she used to be.<br />
you are loud and opinionated and everything you think your mother is not.<br />
she worries that no man will marry you<br />
you roll your eyes and ask her if the years of marriage she wears with pride has done anything but suck all the juices out of her skin<br />
but at night, when no one is watching, you worry that she's right and you are not the marrying kind.<br />
you tell men that you are not the marrying kind<br />
and they agree;<br />
you are the woman they fuck after marrying the marrying kind.<br />
<br />
The world is burning and you are burrowed into sheets.<br />
He tells you that he loves you and you desperately want to believe it<br />
but you don't.<br />
you smile and tell him that he doesn't.<br />
he is the softest part of your morning<br />
the part where you wake up and watch him and he breaks into a smile sensing your gaze<br />
and i know he makes love like he's the ocean and he's trying to drown you<br />
his hips separating shore from water<br />
like he has only ever belonged to you<br />
i know that he feels like a spiked drink after many months of fasting<br />
and sometimes the sadness requires you to burrow yourself into flesh to survive<br />
i know he burns like he's the sun and you really need the light to walk you back into yourself<br />
but baby, he's just the moon; stealing light sources and pretending to be radiant.<br />
so you need to stop leaving the lights on and the doors open for him<br />
he won't stay and he doesn't belong to you.</div>
<div>
<br />
<br />
love,<br />
<i>leggy.</i></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
leggyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14989088139010700349noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6113858637820289904.post-23214217134547116132016-12-25T17:03:00.001-09:002016-12-26T04:23:23.679-09:00A Litany of ConfessionsIs there a word for the moment when you win an argument?<br />
when the punches have landed when you weren't even looking and how even though you've won you feel the air gushing out of you in defeat?<br />
it's the same word for the moment when your ex lover chokes out that he's getting married with a tongue that has just ploughed you into supplication.<br />
<br />
my friend is falling in love and it's glorious to watch.<br />
she's knitting his name into anything that moves, into any story that dares to draw breath<br />
his existence is always being spilled into conversations and she's kneading love into his body between endless cocktails and tears and burning and she's feeling the most she has ever felt in her life and even though they are tap dancing across continents and around people, he is still her favourite place to exist. he is discovering the grenades between her skin and picking them off one after the other because in this love story the princess rescues herself and the prince is just along for the ride.<br />
<br />
I am not in love with you but everything is all light and weightless.<br />
You tell me stories that make me throw my head back and gulp the breaths of others around me<br />
everything is garlic and ginger and cinnamon<br />
i am not in love with you but you walk in like you belong here and<br />
in the absence of speech our bodies make summer when you pour me on your backseat.<br />
I will never call you home but the seams of my body are coming unraveled in your hands and i don't know how to put this much shame into poetry.<br />
do you know what the world sounds like after everyone leaves?<br />
after you have picked your teeth and tucked your conscience back into view<br />
after you have peeled me out of my skin and spilled me on the floor in penance<br />
i lay there and whimper out a prayer,<br />
i say:<br />
<i>Forgive me Lord, but i am so lonely and sad and just looking for a body to disappear into.</i>leggyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14989088139010700349noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6113858637820289904.post-68473417446561796942016-09-30T03:27:00.001-08:002016-09-30T03:27:15.154-08:0025.<br />
<br />
I've been grappling with what i want to say in this post.<br />
every year i ask the current year to be kinder to me than the previous year was<br />
i think each year is competing with the last to be my worst year yet.<br />
my twenties have been ridiculously tough.<br />
there were times during my 24th year that i didn't think i was going to survive my 24th.<br />
but i did it, didn't i?<br />
it definitely didn't make me stronger; i think that saying is bullshit but i'm still here am i not?<br />
i survived. i crossed over. i'm here at 25, alive, keeping the demons at bay.<br />
I'm still struggling with christianity. i honestly think to be a very good christian you have to find a way to keep the doubts away but i am not succeeding.<br />
i'm trying to still keep it all together because i literally cannot afford to be an atheist. i really can't. because even on my worst days of not believing, i still need the comfort that there is someone higher than me, who is all knowing and all seeing who loves me and will see me through.<br />
<br />
I've been writing this blog for 8 years now.<br />
8 years!!<br />
it's so refreshing to read through it and see how much i've evolved, how much my opinions on so many things have changed, how much i've grown. i think that's really the best part of blogs, to see how far you've come.<br />
while reading through, i noticed how many of my new year or birthday posts talked about trying to be a better person. ha. i can tell you definitively that i have not succeeded on that front. i wish i could be that girl with the sunny personality, running around in the gardens, wearing flower crowns, getting told that my aura is peaceful and being all peace and love (barf) but i'm just not that girl. i can't even be friends with people like this and when i meet them on the internets i just think and have such strong convictions that they're faking.<br />
but as the great Desus and Kid Mero would say - I believe God is still working on me, beloved.<br />
<br />
anyway,<br />
here's to 25,<br />
be kinder to me than 24 was.<br />
i really, really need you to be.<br />
<br />
love,<br />
<br />
<i>leggy.</i><br />
<br />leggyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14989088139010700349noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6113858637820289904.post-66371818870220819662016-03-27T14:02:00.000-08:002016-03-27T14:02:17.779-08:00It's 1 am in Nola and we're briefly gorgeous.There's an old apartment somewhere in America tucked in between a city adorned in sin and the sky's blue dress.<br />
Some nights have found me here wrapped around a skin that looks nothing like mine.<br />
you say my full name, always<br />
and i'm utterly unraveled into sighs<br />
there are people who rip you apart<br />
and there are people who pick up the pieces one after another<br />
my problem is that you are both and i've learnt to take the little light that filters in with the darkness<br />
we have been reenacting this 6 year long one night stand and refusing to let go<br />
but darling, it's art to watch yellow skin entangled in white sheets while the moon mocks us<br />
we flitter in between our real lives and boyfriends and girlfriends who come and go<br />
we return and reach for each other in between the loves that we think will stay<br />
i have tried to picture my life emptied of you and every time I find someone whose skin is a reflection of mine, i try;<br />
but i end up seeing you in every yellow ceiling, every broken and splayed sun, every drunken lip.<br />
<br />
remember that summer night we went camping<br />
and you played Blind Pilot's "3 rounds and a sound" until i couldn't bear it<br />
we looked out into the starless sky for the longest trying to decide what to do with a love like this<br />
you kissed my neck and built a light house on my chest<br />
and we held our breath and waited for the inevitable shipwreck<br />
I swirled into every part of you, curled up and refused to untangle<br />
i'm terrified of my skin and its constant need for touch<br />
you tell me that the louisiana bayous are disappearing, that the gulf of mexico is swallowing them whole and refusing to let go,<br />
you tell me that the next time we go camping that that piece of land would have been lost.<br />
we never go camping again;<br />
and i think of this night every time i'm on the beach watching the ocean gently try to engulf the earth<br />
<br />
tonight, i'm drunk and crying because the demons return sometimes<br />
they creep in when i'm not looking<br />
and you're cooking me eggs<br />
and reading me pages from your medical books; and baby<br />
I would have burnt the world down for you if you'd asked<br />
<br />
<br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>leggy.</i><br />
<br />leggyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14989088139010700349noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6113858637820289904.post-25382837096440210322015-09-30T02:42:00.002-08:002015-09-30T02:42:23.357-08:0024.<br />
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
I don't need anyone to distract me from myself anymore.<br />
I love the ones who look at me and know without a doubt that I'm in an illicit affair with myself and I'm standing on rooftops and dancing on beaches and yelling at the grooves of myself<br />
I do not want caresses under the cover of the night</div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
I'm tired of whispers, of subtle. I want loud.</div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
I want the sun.<br />
The night is not romantic anymore.<br />
I'm too old for nights, for stars- those fuckers are dead anyway.</div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
So here's to 24, be better and kinder to me than 23 was.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
love,<br />
leggy.</div>
leggyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14989088139010700349noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6113858637820289904.post-42603810862679803082015-06-13T00:53:00.000-08:002015-06-13T11:14:31.309-08:00OpiorphinOn that first night when we crammed all of us<br>
into your back seat<br>
and tried to rub the melanin off our skin;<br>
you traced your tongue around the arch of my back and called me magic.<br>
<br>
your tongue has become a practiced prayer i say to rid myself of the pain.<br>
you're lying on my bed humming into my skin<br>
because we have nothing to say to each other.<br>
i'm using you for metaphors and similes for love,<br>
tearing pieces of us to reclaim a part of me that has forgotten to write since...<br>
well, since.<br>
you ask me about work a million times because really when our mouths aren't full with each other,<br>
we remember all the ways that we're going to regret this.<br>
i shouldn't be making a home in another's body<br>
but you pull me to you at 2 am and suddenly i don't know what to do with my legs<br>
i haven't stared at them and wondered how high they can jump since you came along.<br>
<br>
love shouldn't look like a scrawny, skinny boy who laughs into my skin and doesn't know what to say to me after his lips leave mine to draw breath<br>
i'm not afraid of being moved anymore<br>
but this is not love or the beginning of it<br>
<br>
my therapist thinks i lie to her,<br>
i do.<br>
she asks me if i've thought about hurting myself or anyone else,<br>
i say no and that's the truth. i've learnt to transfer the pain into a sea of dark skin.<br>
she asks again if i would ever consider drugs,<br>
i say no. you can tell she's come to the end with me.<br>
i don't have any anecdotes to tell her,<br>
i'm supposed to be happy. i don't fit.<br>
i bore my therapist.<br>
<br>
i get to decide who i share this temple with.<br>
the last person i let worship in it burnt it to the ground.<br>
so you get no fire, you get no fuel.<br>
you can stay and pray till you get tired of the silence and leave.<br>
<br>
when you stumble out of my bed in the morning,<br>
i smile and wait for the shame to come.<br>
and each time it arrives,<br>
i'm reminded that i am indeed a Nigerian woman.<br>
<br>
<br>
<br>leggyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14989088139010700349noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6113858637820289904.post-62038407057983677782015-04-05T18:29:00.004-08:002015-04-06T03:54:13.631-08:00I'm not here to talk you off that ledge<div>
on days when life is especially hard<br />
and living isn't cutting it anymore<br />
on days when you stand waiting for the subway,<br />
and have the sudden urge to jump.<br />
on days when you find your ledge and decide to take the plunge<br />
i do not intend to talk you off the edge<br />
you have such beautiful long legs<br />
made for jumping into things that were never going to last anyway.<br />
<br />
i understand that you have waited endlessly for tomorrows<br />
but there are so many people waiting<br />
against all logic for tomorrow to bring us something the yesterdays forgot<br />
and we are all waiting<br />
and i understand that you're tired of waiting<br />
and you're so tired of just being<br />
<br />
And you just want tomorrow to bring you the strength to get out of bed.</div>
<div>
To brush your teeth,</div>
<div>
Call your mum,</div>
<div>
Be able to say you went grocery shopping.</div>
<div>
That you talked to people today</div>
<div>
That your brain is behaving itself today.</div>
<div>
That the demons didn't come this time</div>
<div>
And you don't really feel the tears coming down anymore cos you're so used to it.</div>
<div>
And life doesn't let you get up before knocking you down again.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I can write a line or two to convince a lover to stay</div>
<div>
I have laid on white sheets</div>
<div>
And let the sun find me between yellow arms because I needed to tear metaphors out of the skin of a five year-long one night stand</div>
<div>
But I cannot figure out how to ask you to stay.</div>
<div>
because i understand that the sadness has refused to leave,<br />
but there are too many ledges with too many beautiful views for you to choose this one you're standing on right now.<br />
so call your mum and let her voice guilt you into staying another day.<br />
and then another<br />
call your lover and let him tell you how his day went<br />
walk to the coffee shop with him and stare at the way his fingers simultaneously kiss his lips and the pages of that book he insists on telling you about.<br />
call your friend and let her tell you about that boy you hate but she won't stop loving<br />
talk to yourself and try to find reasons for you to stay-<br />
you never really read "The Alchemist" and you've been pretending for so many years;<br />
you've never had an orgasm;<br />
Coronas exist;<br />
i never want to be one of those people telling you to "choose happiness"<br />
i've always thought that was ridiculous<br />
because if we could all just "choose happiness" wouldn't we all?<br />
and i cannot promise you that it'll get better.<br />
we're all entirely waiting for better.<br />
And i'm really not here to talk you off the edge<br />
because i know first hand how eroding this darkness can be<br />
but when the demons return,<br />
<i><b>please, </b></i><br />
<i><b>please,</b></i><br />
<b>set them on fire.</b><br />
<br />
<br />
love,<br />
<i>leggy</i></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
leggyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14989088139010700349noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6113858637820289904.post-18340586463877922022015-02-07T20:31:00.001-09:002015-02-07T20:52:39.880-09:00The auditionYou get a call announcing that you've got a call back<div>So you wait and pine and rehearse </div><div>And look forward to the day </div><div>You carefully pick out your clothes</div><div>Think through all your witty remarks </div><div>You're sure you're ready</div><div>You're sure you'll get the part</div><div>And you're not even auditioning for the lead character</div><div>Any minor one will do</div><div>Or maybe an understudy</div><div>An occasional night performing for a real audience </div><div>So the day comes</div><div>And he shows up at your door</div><div>You're just so ready with all your answers and opinions</div><div>And that joke you heard from your coworker that you're going to pass off as an original</div><div>You talk about the music playing</div><div>You're pouring out all the acting chops that you've learnt and mastered all your life.</div><div>This might be it.</div><div>The big break.</div><div>The one everybody talks about.</div><div>All the things you're supposed to feel</div><div>Oh the things you'll feel</div><div>So you get to the movies</div><div>Welp!</div><div>That's 2 hours that you'll have to smize and send out good vibes</div><div>Cos there's no talking at the movies</div><div>And you hadn't considered that.</div><div>So you sit there</div><div>You don't want to be that black person.</div><div>So you watch the movie</div><div>And you sit there for those 2 hours thinking of the books you could have read, the songs you could have stayed home and swayed to.</div><div>But no, you're at a fucking movie.</div><div>And the movie ends and the audition begins again </div><div>And you laugh and jest.</div><div>But he drives you back home.</div><div>Drops you off.</div><div>Hugs you and smiles;</div><div>Says - let's do this again.</div><div>So now you know, </div><div>You for sure aren't getting a call back from this casting director.</div><div>But somehow, you're okay with it.</div>leggyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14989088139010700349noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6113858637820289904.post-24157915074315536392014-12-02T17:38:00.001-09:002014-12-02T18:07:06.157-09:00Tarnished Parts<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>"this love is so new, it squeaks and shines </i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>and lies a little bit,</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>got secrets and shit to hide</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>a little bit"</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>- Zora Howard</i></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
We will drink beer </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
and try out restaurants </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
and make reservations and </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
dress up for dinner. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
you will giggle at my feistiness,</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
you will find all my faults adorable and endearing. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
we will sit on the same side of the corner booth and hold hands and touch each other underneath the table. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
you will find my scars beautiful, worth exploring, you will find the possibilities of me endless.<br />
<br />
you will buy me cheap white dresses that barely cover my legs<br />
and we'll try to make out in poorly lit hookah bars<br />
against doors<br />
while the whole world barely lends us a look<br />
your mouth will bend my name into barely heard sounds that flit past my ears.<br />
your teeth will explore and bite at places the sun cannot see<br />
you will want me, all bold, all black, all skin and bones<br />
all dark and terrible<br />
all sinful<br />
all drenched,<br />
all wet,<br />
all shaking.<br />
<br />
i have tried to obey the saints and the apostles<br />
but i have run across the rain with you<br />
and explored your lips in unbelievably beautiful places<br />
and places that were breathtaking because you were there<br />
and i was there<br />
and the day was yellow and beautiful and smelled like Awka after the rare rain at the peak of harmattan<br />
<br />
i'm new to this,<br />
this reawakening and longing of a body.<br />
i have stood on ledges,<br />
on train platforms,<br />
and fantasized about taking another step forward.<br />
so hold me, while this love is still brand new<br />
while we try to convince ourselves that we're not just stopping by for a moment.<br />
lets pretend that we can be normal lovers,<br />
waking up to each other<br />
you drinking coffee; me telling you that coffee is terrible for you.<br />
lets pretend that this is forever before you get to the tarnished parts<br />
the small towns on this body that were burnt down and colonised before you reached this land<br />
<br />
But,<br />
your hands, young man, feel like the right thing to make this skin into fiery sunsets<br />
and that is reason enough<br />
to make camp here<br />
if only, for the night.<br />
<br />
<br />
love,<br />
<i>leggy</i><br />
<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
leggyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14989088139010700349noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6113858637820289904.post-34564769501118662392014-10-02T15:01:00.001-08:002014-10-02T15:04:53.453-08:00I wrote this for you1. You frankly didn't have enough money for me to want you for it.<div><br></div><div>2. I'm sorry I had too many opinions and thought too highly of women to be with you.</div><div><br></div><div>3. I wasn't going to compete with her for you. I hope when you get home at night and lie with her, she smells me on you.</div><div><br></div><div>4. I hope her smiley faces on Instagram last forever.</div><div><br></div><div>5. Yesterday someone called me beautiful and only you would understand why that would make me cry.</div><div><br></div><div>6. You were an act of rebellion that I regret.</div><div><br></div><div>7. It wasn't love. It was something like it. More volatile, more passionate, more delusional. It looked like love but it was never love.</div><div><br></div><div>8. You said "don't ever change. Don't let anyone change you". Then you left for a boring girl with a soft voice and no strong opinions.</div><div><br></div><div>9. I don't believe in karma. You'll have a good life. I wasn't a safe pick.</div><div><br></div><div>10. There was something beautiful about the way we dug into each other, the way we made feasts out of our bodies. Our bodies belonged together.</div><div><br></div><div>11. I will never write another word about you.</div>leggyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14989088139010700349noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6113858637820289904.post-83568323787752147702014-09-29T14:41:00.000-08:002014-09-29T14:41:27.152-08:0023.I turn 23 in approximately 6 hours.<br />
<br />
when i turned 21, i literally thought time would freeze and i'd be 21 forever but apparently not.<br />
time has flown by so quickly.<br />
i hope this will be a good year for me.<br />
my twenties have not at all turned out how i thought and hoped it would.<br />
it's been a very shitty last few years for me.<br />
like really shitty.<br />
i've cried more in my twenties than in my entire life put together.<br />
i've made shitty choices.<br />
i've had really shitty people come into my life just to fuck me up over and over again.<br />
i've never been farther away from God.<br />
<br />
<br />
So, here's to 23.<br />
please, please, be kind to me.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>leggy.</i>leggyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14989088139010700349noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6113858637820289904.post-36386705611514881352014-09-01T05:10:00.005-08:002014-09-01T05:10:37.779-08:00Birthday gift ideas for your nigerian boyfriend.i once knew a guy whose friend's girlfriend gave his friend a bible for his birthday present and that apparently made her marriage material. i kid you not. this guy i knew and his friend said with so much conviction how mature, and spiritual and ready for marriage she was. So because i love you guys and want y'all to get that ring;<br />
<br />
a list of things that are acceptable as gifts for your nigerian men are:<br />
<br />
-- Obviously, a Bible - because a Bible says that you have read proverbs 31. a Bible shows that you are not materialistic and don't want that nigha for his money because that same bible contains the passage - the root of all evil is sin or something like that. even better, you won't need to spend like half your tax returns buying him something expensive.<br />
<br />
-- fedex food - some guy told me recently that he wouldn't be surprised if i end up not getting married because i refused to cook for him. this is a nigha i am not dating oh. i told him my parents didn't send me to america to cook for men who are not paying my rent. it got me thinking about some girl that fedex-ed her boyfriend chinchin and pepper soup from half way across the state and well, let me just say that that dude is still with that girl and will probably marry her. if that's not prove that you should send that care package, i really, really don't know what is.<br />
<br />
-- a ring - nothing says "keep getting me a ring at the back of your mind" like literally giving your boyfriend a ring. during the presentation you can quietly slip in the size of your fingers, you know, just in case he needs a little push. also, talk about how much you don't even want an expensive ring, marrying him is all that matters to you.<br />
<br />
-- a free pass - chances are he's already sleeping with funmi but just imagine him actually having your approval? he'd love you for life.<br />
<br />
birthday gifts can be cheap and easy and still set you up for bigger things to come in the future. you can go around buying your man actual gifts you think he might like or you can save your money and invest in your future. all terms and conditions apply sha.<br />
<br />
do you have any gift ideas that you think our various nigerian men would appreciate? let me know in the comments. this could save a life...or a relationship.<br />
<br />
love,<br />
<i>leggy.</i><br />
<br />leggyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14989088139010700349noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6113858637820289904.post-5650294758228224672014-08-07T16:34:00.002-08:002014-08-07T16:37:22.288-08:00you're allowed to feel all the feels you want to feelwhy aren't women allowed to be bitter? sometimes bitter is what you should be feeling.<br />
i find that women are constantly under watch by the emotion police. especially nigerian women. you cannot talk about something your ex did to you without being labelled bitter. you cannot talk about your experiences without some idiot coming out and calling you bitter, telling you that if you'd moved on that you wouldn't still be talking about it.<br />
<br />
you also probably shouldn't be around people who ask you how long a friendship/relationship lasted and then use your answer to estimate what you should or should not be feeling. trying to undermine your experiences with the amount of time that person was in your life. no matter how small a time you spent with someone, it doesn't change the fact that love - either romantic or platonic love - changes you in some small or really ridiculously huge way. it doesn't change the fact that this person was in your life for a certain amount of time, it doesn't matter that y'all knew it would end, it doesn't matter that y'all thought it'd last forever, it doesn't matter what the intentions were.<br />
but when love ends, you're allowed to mourn, you're allowed to feel what you're feeling.<br />
if bitter is what you're feeling, you're allowed to be bitter. don't let anyone bully you into pretending that you're not feeling anything. feel what you want to feel. you don't owe anyone any explanation or justification for your feels. feel it and then move on.<br />
<br />
also, people need to realise that what you felt when something happened to you doesn't necessary mean that someone else should feel that same way. this is something i struggle with too. i find that sometimes i get over things quite easily, i gangsta through my feelings and move on but i need to realise that just because that is how i process things doesn't mean that that is how someone else should process their feels. let people feel what they are feeling, don't tell them what they should be feeling instead.<br />
<br />
you don't always have to be the bigger person, the do-what-is-right person. this right here is something i struggle with sometimes in my life. i find that sometimes i do things because i know it is the right thing to do, not necessarily because i want to do them. this person did this? cut them off. this person said that? let them go. i never allow myself to feel what i'm feeling and accept that i'm human and others are human and sometimes people mess up and sometimes i'm allowed to mess up, and i'm allowed to feel what i feel and sometimes i should do what i want to do not what someone else wants me to feel or act how i think someone else wants me to act. sometimes, i wake up and wonder if i had just gone with what i was feeling if things would be different, instead of going with what i know i should do. i also struggle with advising my friends. i'm working on letting my friends know that they're allowed to do what they want to do, feel what they want to feel. i might think that it's stupid and i might think why don't you just get over it? but i never want anyone to wake up 5 years later and think - maybe if i had made that phone call, maybe if i had reached out. i never want anyone to stifle their emotions in this bid to be the one who moves on the fastest and wake up years later to realise that they have all these issues because they never learnt to feel their emotions and that in a bid to move on so quickly they ended up not resolving why something ended and why they no longer feel the need to feel what they felt.<br />
<br />
here ends my rant of the day.<br />
did not proofread.<br />
<br />
love,<br />
<i>leggy</i>leggyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14989088139010700349noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6113858637820289904.post-55192829242837838112014-07-17T04:04:00.000-08:002014-07-17T04:09:02.831-08:00Baked eggs [Stay]<div style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #343434; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 16.363636016845703px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 10px; outline: none 0px;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 16.363636016845703px;">"The truth is this:</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 16.363636016845703px;">My love for you is the only empire</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 16.363636016845703px;">I will ever build.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #343434; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 16.363636016845703px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 10px; outline: none 0px;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 16.363636016845703px;">When it falls,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 16.363636016845703px;">as all empires do,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 16.363636016845703px;">my career in empire building will be over."</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 16.363636016845703px;">- </span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.63636302947998px; line-height: 17.81818199157715px;">Mindy Nettifee, “This is the Nonsense of Love”</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 16.363636016845703px;">4 eggs</i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i style="background-color: transparent;">green onions</i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i style="background-color: transparent;">red onions</i><br />
<i style="background-color: transparent;">3 table spoons of oil</i></div>
<i>salt</i><br />
<i>pepper</i><br />
<i>paprika</i><br />
<i>minced garlic</i><br />
<i>bell peppers</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i><br /></i>
i miss you most when i'm making baked eggs on a perfectly sunny saturday morning while swinging back beer and dancing around my kitchen to Taylor Swift. It hits me in between dicing the onions and convincing myself to use less oil that you are not mine anymore. That i have lost and shed all the skin that you once touched and bore your tongue into. that life has moved on without you. i am not sad anymore. i am not depressed anymore. but the poems all lie. missing someone hits you in between the most mundane tasks. it happens when you're hands deep in eggs and suddenly the beating eggs sound like the way your heart shivered and stopped the first time he dared reach for you.<br />
I don't know why you left. you found my scars beautiful, worth exploring, you found the possibilities of me endless and then you didn't. isn't that how all <strike>love</strike> stories end?<br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>cut your green onions, bell peppers, red onions</i><br />
<i>pour your oil in to your sauce pan</i><br />
<i>put in your cut red onions when oil is hot, let it fry till translucent</i><br />
<i>put in tons of minced garlic, bell peppers and green onions, and let it fry for a bit</i><br />
<i>put in all the spices you're comfortable with (salt, stock cubes, paprika, all spice,ginger powder)</i><br />
<i>let it simmer for a little bit, then take it off the fire.</i><br />
<br />
i don't know why you came back but at dinner i couldn't stop watching your mouth, the way it broke into nervous laughter, and the way it said my name like it belonged there, tucked in between the pearly gates of your tongue. you reached for me in a barely furnished apartment with your breath tinged with the beer you had been downing all night and you tasted like pain. Body shamed and caving with such desperation, kisses dropping upon the small towns and cities of this map of a body that you've colonised and left, time and time again.<br />
is there a word for the crumbling of a body into submission? is there a word for the colour of red on dark skin? is there a word for two souls disappearing into each other? for 9 months worth of longing taken out on bodies too weak and yet too eager to love? is there a word for being too young to make your body into a mantra for passion?<br />
on days like this, it looks like love. while our bodies are tangled and gasping for air, our hearts turn down the volumes of all the things we've done wrong, of all the ways this is a disaster, of all the ways we will eventually destroy each other. i am not a safe pick, someone should have told you that, i have been patched on and fixed, callouses and bones and flesh and little heart and i am guaranteed to come undone.<br />
<br />
<i>preheat your oven to 400 degrees</i><br />
<i>pour your vegetables into a baking pan you already coated with butter or a non stick spray</i><br />
<i>beat your eggs</i><br />
<i>pour your eggs over your vegetables</i><br />
<i>let it bake till the eggs are done.</i><br />
<i>sprinkle a little parsley or basil on top</i><br />
<i>enjoy</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
what i know of losing yourself in someone is this-<br />
you will learn to enjoy the pain-<br />
he doesn't mean to make you cry, he was just never taught how to stay<br />
you will not recognise you in the mirror anymore<br />
you will learn to peel off the sadness on days it surfaces unexpectedly<br />
you will look up 9 months later while baking eggs and miss them<br />
and suddenly, you won't know what to do with your hands.<br />
<br />
love,<br />
<i>leggy</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i><br /></i>leggyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14989088139010700349noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6113858637820289904.post-42465775691422874212014-06-12T19:50:00.001-08:002014-06-12T19:50:30.137-08:00To a friend, after a heartbreak<div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>“I mean you ask me </i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>not to fall in love with you </i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>and then you go write poems </i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>with your tongue and draw constellations </i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i> in my freckles.”</i></div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Clementine Von Radics</i></div>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
When you tell him that you love him and he hesitates.</div>
<div>
Do not make excuses for him. Do not rationalize why he doesn't love you like you do. Do not quote reasons why men can't express their feelings. When he tells you you're too good for him, believe him. When he says that he doesn't want to hurt you, nod. Don't cry. Let him say his piece. Stare at the mole on his face. If you concentrate hard enough your eyes won't betray you. When he says he doesn't want to be with you anymore, nod, walk him to the door, when he asks if you're alright, nod again. When he kisses you goodnight in places where the sun cannot see, let him. Savour it. This is going to be the last time his tongue will sing praises about the beauty you are.</div>
<div>
When he finally leaves, collapse on your bed and cry, my friend. Because a love ending, even a one sided love, is reason enough to empty out your soul and weep.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I want to write you something that will heal you and make you forget but you have to go through the mechanics of break up. First you cry, then you call, then you bargain with God, then with him, maybe try fasting, Ramadan is on the way maybe give that a go?</div>
<div>
Then your pride will kick in and you will delete his number and block him and just hold him in your memories where the only things you'll remember are the good days - not the day he yelled at you and made you feel unworthy. </div>
<div>
And the rejection will hurt most of all because you're beautiful and giving and amazing and how could he not want you? How could he not want to read the end of this gorgeous piece of literature you are?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Art is subjective, my friend and also he's obviously an idiot. But you are too woman for him. Too giving and loving and too filled with dreams of the future and ambition. You are worthy beyond words to be loved but not by a boy. Not by someone you have to make better, not by a boy who wants to put you through the ringer and then stands on your battered heart to call himself a man.</div>
<div>
You deserve to be loved by a flawed man who is willing to compromise and stay and work at it and love you as much as he possibly can.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
So cry and cry and cry and then move on to something worthy. Better things will come. Better people will come. And you will be better for it.<br />
<br />
So, when you wake up in the middle of the night with an urge to call him, go back to sleep, don't let this undeserving boy be the moon to your ocean tides.<br />
<br />
love,<i> </i><br />
<i>leggy.</i></div>
leggyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14989088139010700349noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6113858637820289904.post-26069740758070050882014-04-14T16:06:00.001-08:002014-04-14T16:06:26.391-08:00a letter to myself, 6 months agoYou should see yourself this evening. nothing has ever looked better, in your bed, surrounded by pizzas and slinging back a bottle of beer. yes, you acquired the taste. you've settled into its bitter taste and managed to find the sweet in it. you're in your panties and bra in your furniture less apartment laughing hysterically about something you just saw on twitter. your alone has settled into you. you've remastered the act of being alone and now it feels like you're friends with yourself again.<br />
it's spring again and your allergies are not as bad as they were last year and you're reading again and spring feels so good and your legs are out to play again.<br />
it's probably 3am where you are and you're sad again, and you're crying again and you feel like you're never going to be happy again and you miss yourself and you miss the person who left.<br />
love did not come how you expected and it did not stay how you expected. you built an empire in between the shoulders of winter but of course it must fall like all empires do. the summer came around with graduations and job searches and depression and all its southern sun and melted your empires.<br />
i wish you could have seen you today - content, happy, maybe then you would have cried less, danced in your underwear more, enjoyed the drinking instead of using it as a form of escape. i wish you didn't have to turn to the sleeping pills to lure yourself into constant oblivion. i wish you hadn't forgotten how to love yourself when someone else offered to carry that burden. you should have known that no one could love you in the tentative and vain way you were accustomed to. you loved all of you out and ended up empty.<br />
the world is starting to make sense all over again. you're going out more and traveling more and complaining about work and laughing with friends and having inappropriate sexual conversations with girls who helped pull you out of your loneliness. and you're loving the way your skin is finally hugging itself and your mirror tells you you're beautiful over and over again till you start to believe it again and you're having brunch and drinking red wine after midnight with girls who like to hold you and love you and tell you that you're too damn fabulous to be this lost.<br />
<br />
this is all to say that<br />
you've found you again<br />
you're living again<br />
and i'm so proud of you.<br />
<br />
love,<br />
<i>leggy</i>leggyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14989088139010700349noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6113858637820289904.post-7372577323230099672014-03-28T04:03:00.002-08:002014-03-28T04:03:42.814-08:00Fiery Reds<div style="text-align: center;">
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<i><b><strike>I square danced on your
grave tonight.</strike></b></i><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i><b><strike><br /></strike></b></i></div>
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I remember the first time i saw you. </div>
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Winter. </div>
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You stared at me through out that night without saying a word to me. You spoke to my friends and never directed any of your questions towards me. </div>
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You were so dark and the whites of your teeth when you burst into unexpected laughter always came as a surprise. You had the weirdest eyes, and sometimes i'd forget that i wasn't supposed to be looking into them. </div>
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<o:Company>louisiana state university</o:Company>
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<span style="font-size: 8.0pt;"><i><b><strike>I went to your wake keeping
with lips your tongue once whispered to</strike></b></i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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I didn't go to your wake. I couldn't go. </div>
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I sat around an hour away and counted reasons why i shouldn't go - </div>
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you didn't belong to me anymore, </div>
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the moments between the corners of september and may were locked away forever, </div>
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i never belonged to you, </div>
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you were terrifying in the way you wanted me, </div>
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i was selfish in the way i didn't want you.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<o:Company>louisiana state university</o:Company>
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<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 8.0pt;"><strike><i>I haven’t cried yet.</i></strike><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;">
you left and a text message announcing your leaving was all i had, and not even from you. i couldn't stop crying for a week. i gave myself a week to mourn you. you wouldn't have liked all the crying, you hated people being sad around you. </div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;">
You thought you could fix the world...</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;">
You thought you could fix me if you tried hard enough, if you begged hard enough, You thought you could mold me back into happiness if I'd just let you try but your hands were full of sin, young man.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><b><i><strike>bon voyage, mon chéri homme français</strike></i></b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I hope you have a quarter for the boat man.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
love, </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i>leggy</i></div>
</div>
leggyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14989088139010700349noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6113858637820289904.post-87187664379337101322014-01-21T15:31:00.000-09:002014-01-21T15:41:36.658-09:00Everything i know about heartbreak, I learnt from Houston.<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>"i won't glorify or romanticise</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>heartbreak,</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>for me it was a kind of death</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>and i was forced to keep living"</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i> - Warsan Shire</i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
You should fall in love in Houston, definitely not forever, but at least once. Houston will enthusiastically and expensively romance you with all its oil money and terrible traffic and never ending roads and suburbs and streets. There are never ending hidden alley ways where you can park at 2 in the morning and awkwardly reach for your lover in between arguments and lies and more lies and kiss already swollen lips until you find the truth in them. But you have to do it right, you have to fall in love with a man who will dance for you in the middle of the street under street lights right in the middle of the city's center and tell you stories of the military and love and soldiers who weren't always soldiers. it's difficult to determine what to do with this much sadness and pain, this city is drenched in it, it will slowly seep into you and the man who dances for you under the stars. the man who has a laughter that sounds like musical notes suspended on oceans that dragged you away from everything that looks like you and wants you.<br />
<br />
You should fall in love in Houston with a man who loves the idea of you. Who wants you to shrink for him, to talk less, argue less, be less you, be smaller, fit in his palm. A man who wants you learn his language and paints the tones into your skin every night. Shut up more, listen to him more, you don't always have to have an opinion and you try. you try to be less aggressive, you try the submissive thing, you read proverbs 31 over and over and over again until you can quote the words in your head as you count to 10 and bite your tongue. you become familiar with the way your blood taste on tongues that have been bitten for so long. you wake up one day and find yourself shriveled, and unrecognizable but you love him so you stay and you fast and you beg God and you wonder what you're going to do if he leaves. Begging becomes your way of life, you spend hours in tears begging him to stay. you rationalise why you stay, why you deserve the pain, you think of all the ways he's convinced you that you're not worthy and you believe them and you tried didn't you?<br />
<br />
You should fall in love in Houston with a man who doesn't know how to stay. He will leave. that's all he knows how to do. You should spend your time in bed crying. let no one tell you different. crying is exactly what you should be doing. Some days the pain feels like it's never going to end, but you should wake up and walk to your favourite brunch place and sit there alone and read "Winter's Tale", over and over and over again till you know all the nooks and crannies of New York city without ever having been there. You should call him and beg some more, you should write him emails and poems until you've run out of things to say and then one day, stop calling him. stop writing him poems that he'll never get to see. stop writing chapters about him when you're only but one sentence in his book. dance naked in your bathroom more, smile silently to yourself at dirty jokes. you should giggle more often because you like to and he's no longer there to tell you that giggling is for immature young girls. you're immature and young and sad but giggle anyway because you want to and because there's no one here to tell you that you can't. Laugh in the dark at how beautiful and amazing and fucking worthy you are.<br />
<br />
You should acknowledge that you probably did some things you shouldn't have in this love story, you should read it over and over again till you recognise those things and try to be better. then fall in love again with a man who thinks you're worthy of his love and do better, be better, be worthy.<br />
<br />
<br />
love,<br />
<i>leggy</i><br />
<br />
<br /></div>
leggyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14989088139010700349noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6113858637820289904.post-16192738814773513322013-10-25T17:01:00.001-08:002013-10-25T17:03:26.795-08:00Enjoy your twenties: A PleaI think everyone should enjoy their twenties. this is the golden age. you're going to learn more in your twenties than any other decade in your life. i have learnt more in this second year of this decade than i have learnt my entire life. my views have been shaped and changed and shaped and changed again, i've gone through experiences that i never thought i'd go through, i've loved, i've cried more in my twenties than my entire years on earth and this is frankly not an exaggeration.<br />
<br />
but that's the best thing about your twenties. you're old enough to be taken seriously, to be considered an adult, to drink, but you're also young enough for your mistakes to be forgiven, to be given a get out of jail free card. you're young enough to love and fail and get up again and throw yourself right back into love, you're young enough to be rejected and to reject, to give your heart and have it rejected, but you're still young enough to heal from the callouses that your heart will inflict on you.<br />
<br />
you should have fun in your twenties, you should dance in the rain and get drunk and dance with strangers at a bar at one in the morning and kiss that cute boy across the hall from you because you want to, you should go bar hopping because soon you'll be fourty and you'll be that old woman in the club that you and your friends sneer at now.<br />
<br />
you should stay indoors and drink your corona and get drunk within the corners of your bed and read books that will take you to nigeria and accra and take a walk through italy and france and through the streets of london. you should make that recipe in that cook book that you bought swearing you'd cook through it once you got your own place and your own money.<br />
<br />
you should fall in love. lots of times or not at all or once. when you get your heartbroken you should ball up in bed and cry and feel your heart literally break and cry and cry and cry and drink and pray and drink and call him a million times and beg and cry and repeat until you feel better, until you can get up and make breakfast and order yourself flowers even though you hate them, until you delete his number and smile at your friends and fall into the arms of another, until you can get up and travel to that city that he kept promising he'd take you to that he never did, until you can get up and finally join the rest of the world.<br />
<br />
you should go to brunch. all the time. brunch is the new breakfast. everyone is doing it. why eat at 9 when you can eat at 11 or 12 and call it brunch? plus it's acceptable to drink during brunch, i know!! you should totally brunch.<br />
<br />
you should find something you like and make a dedicated hobby out of it. you should find something you hate and make money from it. if you find something you like that you can make money from...well, you're one of the lucky ones and you should stick to it. it's your twenties, you don't have kids, work hard. get up in the morning and work hard, kiss all the arse you have to, meet all the people you have to. work hard. stay on that grind and save! save! save! save for the days when you've had enough of that shitty job and just want to quit. save for the unexpected events. practice your poker face every morning before you leave for work. smile often. complain when you need to. i don't care that there are hungry kids in africa...well, i do but this is not a suffering olympics, complain if it'll make you feel better then shut up and figure out a way to make it all better.<br />
<br />
there will never be a decade like this one. there will never be a decade with this many opportunities and this many love stories. there will never be a decade like your twenties. so please, please make the best of it and above all, enjoy it and learn and learn and toss down a shot every chance you get, you'll need it.<br />
<br />
love,<br />
<i>leggy.</i>leggyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14989088139010700349noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6113858637820289904.post-51099735360972473392013-10-02T18:29:00.000-08:002013-10-03T02:44:51.602-08:00remembering to forget youI gave myself 14 days to forget you.<br />
<br />
on the first day, my pillow was soaked with tears.<br />
<br />
on the second day, i allowed myself to start forgetting.<br />
<br />
on the third day, you called to see how much of my heart you still had. i was a fool for picking up.<br />
<br />
on the fourth day, i thought of you a million times.<br />
<br />
on the fifth day, you called to extend the olive branch. i took it. i was a fool.<br />
<br />
on the sixth day, i went partying. i was reminded of you at every turn. i let myself be romanced by a fast talking boy who wanted to love me in a language my grand mother would approve of.<br />
<br />
on the seventh day, i drank till i fell asleep.<br />
<br />
on the eight day, i deleted your number. and your messages. i deleted your messages without reading them.<br />
<br />
on the ninth day, you called, i didn't pick up. my heart is not the wave to your sea, i refuse to let it be pulled back and forth.<br />
<br />
on the tenth day, i let my fast talking boy cook for me.<br />
<br />
on the eleventh day, i let myself smile.<br />
<br />
on the twelfth day, i couldn't remember what it felt like to be loved by you. i don't think i ever really knew. i think i imagined all of it.<br />
<br />
on the thirteenth day, i sat under the shower for 45 minutes. i still couldn't get you off my skin.<br />
<br />
on the fourteenth day, i let my tongue wander into another.<br />
<br />
i no longer remember what you sound like.<br />
<br />
maybe it never really happened.<br />
<br />
i may have imagined it all.<br />
<br />
i hope i did.<br />
<br />
you were a small fire i loved watching burn.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
love,<br />
<i>leggy.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>p.s: sometimes when i go on my blog, i can't see my comment box. if that's happening to you too, many use another browser other than google chrome?</i>leggyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14989088139010700349noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6113858637820289904.post-69655402111758045072013-07-01T11:32:00.001-08:002013-07-01T11:32:36.020-08:00you're not like other females and other ridiculous things.i have been on my share amounts of dates and some things men do make me want to just scream. you're taking me out for the first time and here are a list of things you should not do because they grind my gears. <div>
<br /></div>
<div>
- do not be mean to the waiter!! - this guy once took me to this restaurant and after we ordered, some couple that came in after us got their order before we got ours and the dude went off about racism and shit and let me tell you, i have never been that embarrassed in my entire life. do not be mean to strangers or you will definitely not be getting another date.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
- backhanded compliments - don't insult a girl across the room just to be able to give me a compliment. don't call that girl across the room fat just to then tell me that "i'm glad that you're not like that, girls nowadays don't know how to take care of themselves". el oh el. seriously, just compliment me and leave out other girls. this is not a comparison, just give me a freaking compliment straight up.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
- negging - "i guess you're cute", "you're not really my type but i decided to be open minded". "you're actually too thin for me, i like a woman with a lot more flesh on her bones". lol. i don't understand why men think that saying something insulting to you will make you like them more. negging does not work in this neighborhood. seriously, it doesn't.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
- telling me "all african men cheat" while being an african man - i really think that this explains itself.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
- men who make a big deal out of nothing - seriously, pick your fights. we don't have to fight about EVERY.SINGLE.THING. seriously. somethings are not worth it. if you cannot tell your boys what you're fighting about because it's so freaking ridiculous then maybe you shouldn't be fighting about it either.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
- telling me that because i'm a feminist, i'm a man basher really doesn't fly on a first date either. it's your opinion but don't expect me to go out with you after that please.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
- men who don't read and who tell you that because you're reading "you must have so much time on your hands to be able to waste it like this". yup, someone said that to me verbatim. i just couldn't believe it.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
- traditional men. i love cooking. i will not marry a man who i do not love cooking for. i will not date a man who thinks cooking is a duty i have as his girlfriend. el oh el. you will starve.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
what are the worst things you've heard on a first date? what are your absolute worst turn offs? let me know in the comment section!!! </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
i hope y'all are having a good year so far?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
love,</div>
<div>
leggy.</div>
leggyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14989088139010700349noreply@blogger.com4