4am In Atlantic City

4Am In A.C

Just another love song, or just another crime wave? Emotions, Sex, cash, guns, love, and death.

For me, it was for the love of the heist.

For her, it was for the love of the ice. “I love you, but I love diamonds more.” Her voice.

I respected her position money over flesh. She adored the Tech .22 and Ari Lennox.

For me, it was the Colt .45 and Yung Bleu. “Robbery Adeux” My voice. I was addicted to crime like a drug. No choice. I grew up like this.

And together we were to blow up, glow up, light the town up. We painted the city blood red, and we adorned it with diamonds and guns.

To protect the guilty, her name I could never mention… So, we shall call her Zoe.

Yellow, hinted with red. Just how I like ’em. An hourglass figure, hazel eyes, and dreads. She wore hers the rock star way shaved like a Mohawk, parts on the side, model height, and her stride was to kill for.

Word!

Her style was personified. Hers! Sometimes it was the business suite: gangsta like pinstripe… Dior. Roger Vivier heels. Tech .22 in the Hermes cache. Bout her business she was. So sexy she was.

And, I was the nigga in her life. Quiet, low key, gangsta, you know me. My poetry was deep.

“I love it when you speak.” Her voice.

My car is the vehicle in which we coasted through the city. Top down Ari Lennox, Yung Bleu on shuffle “Night Drive” “2. A.M. in Houston”

4.A.M. in A.C., in the continental. My gangsta lifestyle provided me with luxury. Pinky ring, choke chain, KM was the charm, Patek Philippe on my wrist, gangsta bitch on my arm.

Just another love song or just another crime wave?

My brim stayed cocked, My Timbs stayed fresh, and my weed was loud, My gun was big! On special occasions, I wore Stefano Ricci threads, and Chelsea boots by John Lobb. My style personified. Me. I’m him!

4.A.m. in A.C., no cars on the streets. Me and Zoe. She gave me head while I drove… my little freak.

Zoe healed my love scars. Before her I was a man that didn’t believe in love. “Only love money.” My voice. I told Zoe this when she asked for my perspective on love. It was the third date I remember like it was yesterday.

Four years from the day. 1.A.M., in Vegas, Aria sky suites. Our arrangement was supposed to be a one night thing. She was so gorgeous and gangsta, I took her out again, and again, and again.

“Why not try loving another human being?” Her voice. She asked staring into my eyes as we lay in between the sheets.

“My heart is precious. So, I must protect it with everything… And I trust no other human being.” My voice.

Zoe sighed. Why? I wondered. This was only a fling. I made a mental note: never call her again.

The next morning we made our move, the ski mask way. She brung me in on her play. Some Willy was holding figures. Eight Mill’ to be exact.

To make a long story short we tied him up. Zoe’s eyes lit up when I discovered a Crown Royal knapsack with ten diamonds. I gave them to her she touched her heart, “All for me?” Her voice.

My number one rule was leave no witnesses. I was fixing to put one in the Mexican’s head, it blew my mind when instead she did. Six shots in his face– with the Tech .22.

A tingle shot through my heart. I pulled her hand and together we ran out of the house. We sped off in the dead man’s car.

Three dates and a robbery homicide with Zoe, and something was creeping in my heart.

I hopped my flight back to A.C. and she went her way. The entire flight all that I could think of was Zoe. “Woe!” My voice. This shit was getting real. I told myself that I would never call her again. Instead, I was liking all of her pics on the Gram. At the time, I was wondering what was love? Because I never experienced a feeling so intense before.

I got home and I couldn’t resist the urge to call. I picked up the phone and what a coincidence… Zoe was calling.

It was 1.A.M. in LA 4.A.M in A.C. In her background she played Ella Mae, I was listening to Durk.

Just another love song or just another crime wave?

We Face timed, “I just wanted to show you my new gun.” Her voice. She was brandishing the new Tech .22 through the camera.

“Look at my view.” My voice. I showed her the ocean and the sun rising through my window.

“Oh my God– that’s so beautiful. When, can I come and visit?” Her voice.

“Whenever you’re ready.” My voice.

“One day soon.” Her voice.

Through the phone, Zoe put on a show. Face time sex was remarkable. She made me feel like I was there.

Two weeks later, 10.A.M. in D.C., we met on Black Lives Matter Plaza. Sometimes Zoe be on that Afrocentric shit. Kinta cloth and shit.

As we strolled through D.C., we built on the image of the black man in America. Her thoughts were deep. Like Angela Davis when she wore the fro. “Black Power in my blood… My dad was a Panther.” Her voice.

Damn! Zoe was all that I could dream of: Gangsta, beautiful, and woke. She complemented my energy, a thuged out synergy. I was falling in love was this the end of me.

Zoe made me better. She bought me books to add to my mind’s progressions, gold to complement my drip, guns, knives, crossbows and shit.

Just another love song or just another crime wave?

Zoe her secret garden had me calling. “Let me take care of you for the rest of our lives.” My voice. In my line of work, this was a proposal.

12.A.M. in Miami, knee in the sand, gun on my waist, Tiffany in my hand. Zoe accepted my ring then we fucked in the sand.

Our romance was chopping the dreads off of some Haitian, and burning him with cigarettes until he spilled the beans. “A half a Mill’ in the basement.” His voice.

Zoe retrieved the cash, and I chopped off Dread’s head. “Sa Pa Se!” My voice. Zoe licked the blood off of my knife. “Umm…vamp life.”

Again, Zoe blew my mind. She was just too good to be true.

“On pretty lady, at long last love has arrived. Now that I found you stay. Don’t let me down I pray.” Lauryn Hill’s can’t take my eyes off of you was my prayer.

Outside of Zoe 

and my dough, nothing even mattered. I’ll take a bullet for her. A love like this… what more could I ask for?

Currently, it was 4.A.M. in A.C. No cars o the street. Me and Zoe. She gave me head while I drove. My little freak. We were headed home just married and honeymooned.

Just another love song or just another crime wave?

4.A.M. in A.C. Top down Yung Bleu was the sound. Zoe looked up, I was all over her face. Something was askew. I could feel it in the air. I looked in the rearview but nothing was there.

“What’s the matter?”Her voice. Zoe felt my energy, and grabbed the Tech .22 from under the seat.

“Nothing.” My voice. We amassed a world of enemies, and sometimes I felt things that weren’t there.

As quick as I lowered my guard, they appeared. Two bitches on street bikes Racing from behind. I knew that they weren’t right when they shot through the light. Strapped with Drakeos.

I smashed the gas and gripped the .45 running lights down Pacific ave.

Zoe upped the Tech .22 and let it blow.

The bitches on the bikes were closing in on either side of the Continental. They were raining fire in our direction bullets were whizzing pass my ear Striking the car. Somehow they were missing us.

Just another love song or just another crime wave.

4.A.M. in A.C. gun fire lit up the street. Guns popping was the sound. A would be assassin’s bullet shattered the windshield. It was as if these bitches had endless clips. Their bullets wouldn’t end.

Zoe was standing in the passenger seat, waving the Tech letting it rip. Her dreads were blowing in the wind.

The continental, I was racing it. I heard sirens in the distance. The law.was coming. The bikes were still on our rear. Zoe’s bullets were missing them. I spent a corner in an effort to ditch them. They were still on us.

“My gun jammed!” Her voice. I said a silent prayer, and passed Zoe my .45 with the extended clip. Zoe let it rip as if it were hers.

The biker bitches bullets were still whizzing by my ear.

A few more pops then a crack, and shit went silent. I looked over and my heart went silent.

Zoe took a bullet to the head… She was slumped over the seat… Dead!

Just another love song or just another crime wave?.. Emotions, sex cash, guns, love, and death!

Without Zoe what was life?

Boom!

Devil Deva

Closed my eyes and I saw an Angel;

Hourglass figure Her body was see through.

She had wings too…

Brown skin, but her eyes were light blue.

She was the Devil!

Castaway from the pearly gates

sent to be my date,

only when my eyes were closed.

I called her Rose, because she was a rose,

that arose out of my concrete world. When my eyes were closed,

I was in Rose’s world, Hell!

fire red, was the atmosphere, it Smelled of dusk,

and a rosy fiery musk.

A light tune blew “Tweedledee dew!”

Crime was the suggestion, top hats, designer suits, and ties was the style.

Gun shootin’ and prostitution, was the manner in which it went down.

I didn’t know … Was Rose my Ho?

When I was in her world, she always brung me the dough. Nor did I know …

Was Rose my wife? In her world, my ring finger was in ice.

All that I knew was … Rose was the Devil

sent to me in the form of an Angel.

She had wings bedazzled with pearls and diamonds.

Feeling like a… passionate sin upon my skin.

When we were in her world, we made love on clouds of rose petals

It felt like Heaven, yet it was Hell!!! And she was the Devil.

Her sexy Brown was see through, her heart was black ice too,

her soul, I couldn’t see. The Devil in diamonds is what she had to be.

A cursed Angel sent to me, when my eyes were closed… she arose …

from the shadows of her world. We would play in a bar in a red-lit alleyway.

Demons in the form of gangstas were amongst us.

Angels in the form of prostitutes were tuggin’ at the gangstas’ suits.

Rose kept my champagne glass filled with ace.

She kept my four-four close just in case I had to blow a Demon back to reality.

Oh No! This was not my reality. I was only with Rose … when my eyes were closed.

She flew me to the pearly gates, but they were closed…!

Then we would coast in my two-seater, in what seemed like Costa Rica.

We danced Through red sands, Gun in my waistband.

She wore six inch heels made of diamonds and steel!

Roses and pearls covering, all her private swirls!

The rest was brown skin, that I could see through her heart was a black diamond,

I could not see her soul …

Rose gold, and pearls wrapped her neck, like a serpent, a Hunter’s cue.

Together we kept, these Angels and Demons in check.

I told her I loved her, but she never said it back…!

That’ s why I know… She was an Angel sent to me, when my eyes were closed.

Rose!

She was an Angel sent to me, arising from a crack, on a red lit road.

Together, we were rouges, sticking up these gangstas and ho’s.

Then the loot we threw in the red lit sky, she would then wrap me in her wings,

and we would fly…! Ascending to the heaven, to be rejected.

Then we would glide in my two seater, me and my Senorita… my Rose.

My Four-Four was on the dashboard. I was speeding like a Demon.

Fire was shooting out of the rear. I told Rose I loved her, true and sincere,

but it seemed like she couldn’t hear. Because she never said I love you more,

paying attention to my gangsta, but my love she ignored.

So, she had to be, a Devil sent to me. A cursed Angel with blue eyes,

and wings too.

Her skin was radiant brown, and see through.

How could I not be in love with her touch?

She sent passion through my cells,

some more, and a bit too much.

Dissolving sin through my soul,

She was the beginning of time, years old.

She aged like fine wine, a story well told.

She was beyond her time, as if,

she saw me come and go.

The only thing she said to me was,

“In my world just let it flow!”

So, night after night me and Rose

made love,

And let the gun blow.

When I was in her world, she took control of my soul.

Injecting passion and sin within

my heart.

She was a see through beauty but her heart was dark,

her eyes were blue,

She had wings too.

An anathema, Angel…

Castaway

from the pearly gates.

When I closed my eyes I was in Rose’s world.

We twirled to a tune, “Rump a Bum Bum!”

I watched her swing a wing and put a man down,

for glancing at her radiant brown.

In her blue eyes I drowned.

I blew a man’s top off, for looking in her eyes.

Then we made love in the sky.

I was only with Rose when my eyes were closed.

She had blue eyes, a black heart,

and no soul.

So, she had to be,

a Devil sent to me.

An exiled Angel from heaven.

She introduced me to

Hell, …

passion, lust, sex,

and deeds that were murderous!

I was in love with Rose indeed.

I told her I loved her,

and she ignored me.

She wrapped me in her wings, and we flew through the red lit sky.

We touched the pearly gates,

but we were denied.

Then we slid in my two seater,

Me and my Devil Deva…

my Rose.

My Four-Four was in my lap.

We rode to a tune, “ooh la la laa!”

Her see through brown skin flowed into her eyes

that were blue,

her heart was black and cold,

she had no soul,

An Angel…?

She had wings too!

She was enamored of my gangsta, my love she ignored.

So, for her my gun blew.

She had to be, a Devil sent to me

because she never told me

she loved me.

I closed my eyes and Rose arose…

I told her I loved her, wanting to see her soul.

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She turned her head,

her translucent, radiant brown,

became an opaque red,

her wings vanished, and horns formed slowly,

climbing out of her head.

Her blue eyes evaporated into fire holes,

The Devil sprung out of my Angel Rose.

She said, “I told you to just let it flow”

I tryed to open my eyes, but my eyes stayed closed!

The Devil put her lips on my lips and finally,

took my soul.

What Happened?!?!?

I got a chip on my shoulder,
the size of the Golden Nugget…
In A.C.!
Fuck the judge…
I’m going get free!
Like a bird.
Word to Slim, Mike, Steph, Freaky,
and Scrillz…
Death is real!
This cell is realler!
Countdown ’til my death
One hundred and thirty years…
who’s left?
Not a soul!
When I go,
wrap me in a sheet,
scribbled with my word,
My shit is deep!
Deeper than this cell Cuz!
I can’t sleep cause:
The judge keep denying me,
The stenographer worked it on me,
Appeals getting slim,
My man told me he had something for me…
I ain’t hear from him,
again!
WHAT HAPPENED!?!?!?

Still No You

Lost in a reverie of years long gone…
There you were…
Flowing, lilting and lithe
Seeming ubiquitous, transcendental, blowing
in the breeze
There you were… titillating my vision
your beauty, unending, rapturing, amaranthine
You were mine!..
There you were, and here I am
Where are you?
I open my eyes and still no you
Here I am yearning for you, I’m missing you

Lost in a reverie of years long gone…
There you were…
Glaring, radiant, and incandesced
Seemingly uncovered, infinite, undulating
in the sea
There you were… stimulating me
Your beauty bewitching, uncomprehending, enigmatic
You were mine
There you were, and here I am
Where are you?
I open my eyes and still no you
Here I am longing for you, I’m missing you

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Lost in a reverie of years long gone…
There you were…
Buoyant, vivacious, and rhythmic
Seeming celestial, empyrean, flying
in the sky
There you were… tickling my heart
Your beauty, savoring, enticing, indefinite
You were mine!..
There you were, and here I am
Where are you?
I open my eyes and still no you
Here I am waiting for you, I’m missing you

Lost in a reverie of years long gone…
There you were…
Fleckless, ravishing, and riveting
Seemingly ecliptic, aurora, shining
in the night
There you were… stroking my soul
Your beauty immense, exquisite, perpetual
You were mine!..
There you were, and here I am
Where are you?
I open my eyes and still no you
Here I am suspiring for you I’m missing you

You…
Forever smiling
Frozen in time, frozen in my mind
When I close my eyes I see you
But when I open them, still no you

Fatally Her Pt 9

Cold as the cold in the winter. She was cold as the cold in December.

Ice heart, white mink, white gold, white Max Mara stilettos, white beret.

She was the white plague… A slow death!

He walked up and asked her, “what’s your name?”

“Snow,” she said it low.

“I didn’t hear you.”

“You weren’t supposed to.”

“So cold,” he walked away.

White wine – she sipped away, watching the snow fall.

She was a blizzard from hell– waiting to kill her next kill.

Tonight, she would paint this white room red…

He was black, but he seemed white. Skiing on the Alps. They were at a ski resort on Mont Blanc.

She arrived last night. He paid for her first class flight, her all white regalia, and the Bvlgari ice.

The itinerary was for a week. She was on a different schedule. She glanced at the Patek Philippe. She was white hot because he was a second too late.

They ate lobster, pasta, and shrimp when he finally arrived to their dinner date.

“I would like to see your eyes…” he started. “Take off of your shades.”

He was out of his brains if he thought that she was coming out of her all white Celine frames.

“Ha!” She mocked.

At her forwardness, he was shocked.

At his blanc style, she was not impressed. His insipid remarks had no zest.

“You are a delight.” He said.

She rolled her eyes, “no… I’m the Grim reaper, in all white!”

His fork was stuck on the tip of his lip. He was dismayed by her insolence.

She was delighted by his shock.

Again, she glanced at the Patek Philippe watch. Now was the time to rewind this lame’s clock.

No time to explain, she stood pulled the all white Glock from her all white Miu Miu bag and blew out his brains.

White matter splattered– on her white mink.

A statement made… cash in the bank!

“Femme Fatale!” is what she whispered.

On the way out, she glanced over her shoulder, and thought that she saw the chocolate assassin lurking in the distance. When she looked again he was missing…

I am

I Am
With those whom I am housed, I do not love.
With those who keep me guard, I have no quarrel.
For those who serve me unjust, I do not hate.
Though I long for freedom this cell maybe my fate!
A traveling man with no destination, my luggage is the world’s weight.
Though I sin, am I not human?
Made of desire and flesh, as not the rest?
I am King when I dream, a mere slave when I awake.
Though I travel in place with withered legs,I will march to the light of freedom until my soul leaves this place.
Upon the sun or my death, my pen shall never be sheathed.
I will fight until my kingdom is released from this siege.
Love is upon my heart, upon my mind is peace.
Perhaps, I have changed, pity upon the man who remains the same.
Unaware of its perils, I played a deadly game.
Though my body is caged, my mind is free.
I am Kory McClary!

One in a Million

One In A Million

She said that she wanted me to hold her in my arms. She was digging my strong… My fly.

She whispered in my ear and told me that I was her kind of guy. By her gangsta … I was enticed, she lived my kind of life.

Fast pace!

I whispered in her ear “let’s chase a bag and love.”

She giggled, as if she was sincerely tickled.

She loved my business demeanor and the way that I toted my gun. Her name was Teena.

She always sported KB frames her red dreads were always wrapped in a bun. She pushed the BMW 745! She was live. Pistol toting fly- girl. Jlo, on the low. she was black and her complexion was cinnamon. She said “fuck the love… let’s chase the benjamins!”

I giggled because I too was sincerely tickled.

I loved her super model style and the way that she holstered the .40 cal., her lips, and the way that she swayed her hips. She whispered in my ear “I’m a fortune five hundred bitch… I’m super bad.”

I was on her and she was off me. I sexed her softly then I put it on her. Her back shots were real; her ass was soft and fat, and she stared in my eyes when she threw it back.

The cash flew in, and our bond grew deep. I took her around the world. Then I gave her the world.

Teena, red hot, she was a steamer. She knew how to wield the gun. Drop after drop, she blew off tops. Then we would split the bag. I always gave her a little more than half. Because she was my better half. She asked me to marry her. I said, “let’s marry the cash.” And she giggled, as if she was tickled.

She often bought me diamonds and Four Fives: Colt M1911. She blew my dice, and on the come out I struck a seven. She said, “you’re my lucky seven.”

She bought me the five- nine- nine Ferrari. She was five nine, a dime and she was mine, forever!

And I was G’d up forever!

Two seventeen on the dashboard… Jettin’ from the law down the Lincoln highway. She was always beside me. Sundress and KB shades. She was my shade when we were under enemy fire.
She was my constant desire. I loved it when her dreads were unwrapped and they swung, and how she did that thing with her tung when she sucked on me. Sometimes, she be frontin’ on me and I be wanting her more.

I told her that I loved her and that I was sure. She said, “let the bag be the thing that we love more.” And I giggled as if I was tickled.

Often and always, I showered her with diamonds from Harry Winston. Her Bentley, was the Tiffany hue, along with her furs, platinum coated, thirty two.

I was her passenger, and she drove. We piled up the cash in droves.

Outlaws!

We made love on the road speeding. Our hearts accelerated. We were at the paper ducking haters. They kept me on my shit.
Gun busting!

We were lit. Just me and my bitch, Teena!

She bust the baby Nina out the sunroof of the BMW. I was her guy told me how much she loved the way my waves spun.

“I love how you make fire shoot out of your gun,” Teena said as she rubbed my head. “

And I love the way that you do what you do with your tongue.”

I sucked her in the Aston, bust her in the G- wagon. She said that she wanted to have my kids.

I started laughing, “let’s raise these coins up.” Then she giggled, as if she was tickled.

Our love was there, though, often we kept it hid behind Black mask, and sprees of heist, we cherished each other thus neither of us wanted to give up this gangsta’s life. So instead of “I love yous” we proclaimed our love by busting our gun.

Blaq and Teena!

I was pushing the ’69 Camaro down I-10, the top was dropped and Teena was counting the loot. The Law zeroed in. Teena unraveled her dreads and let them drop, in the wind, they swung.

Teena upped her gun, and it blew. And together we flew down the highway. Bullets popping, the radio was whispering a tune, “I did it my way.”

Chase on a Highway!

Teena, ran out of bullets, so she leaned over and took control of the wheel, while I upped my revolver and popped shots out of the wheel. The cylinder spun… .

No more shots in my gun!

I continued mashing the gas, holding Teena’s hand, we were fleeing from the law, empty gun in my lap. She stared into my eyes and I stared back. We raced off into the sunset, with the law behind us.
The End

Fatally Her Part 8

Fatally Her PT 8
She was a sinner… She was a killer… She was a devil… She was Satan!
She was upset! Vexed! This motha fucka just escaped death.

She couldn’t sleep, she was tossing and turning in between her silk sheets. On her queen bed, she was spread. Frustrated… lucid dreams about how she missed the kill. Daydreams of how her head was worth twenty five mil’. Nightmares of how she dodged an assassin’s bullet.
Her sleep wasn’t sleep, it was vision of revenge… A reward on her head? “Ha!” She would seek who put it there then they were dead.

She was pitching a fit, throwing shit everywhere. Her closet was destroyed because of her storm, bags and minks littered her floor. She broke the bed in her room, all of the diamonds and pearls flung all about.

The nerve of that chocolate man, for believing that he could do her dance. She could never forgive herself for succumbing to his trance.

It was time to self purge: Destroy all of the bags, heels, and the furs. Start over. Overhaul her policy. She was accepting nothing less than a half of a million.
Twenty five mil’ on her head… “Ugh!” She couldn’t believe the cowards had the guts.

She would start with the man who was chocolate. He knew her identity and her moves… .

‘Switch it up.”

She couldn’t believe that she was fooled… .

“Tighten up!”

The chocolate man, almost had her biting the dust.

Still, she was yearning for his assassins touch, the way that he grabbed her butt, and the devil that she saw when she looked into his eyes through his shades made her heart shake.

She fell in love with that thug on sight. The moment that he revealed the deal, she was thrilled by his cunning.

“Umm,” her dreams were wet. She dreamed of having sex… Suck him, then kill him!

But, she could only kill him!

The way that he whispered in her ear touched her murderous spirit. “He’s just like me,” she screamed.

She needed new guns and more poison. It was war! War time meant that she upped the score. She was killing whoever was available. Wife… .

All was fair in love and war.

She was in love with the moneybag and prepared for battle. And something was creeping into her heart for t ole boy. She would stab him in the heart, for involving her heart.

The chocolate assassin’s attempt on her life kept her looking over her shoulder. She was seeking closure. He was the only person in the entire world that was able to expose her.

She was chasing an assassin backwards. Looking over her shoulder.
Twenty five mil’ for her kill, why didn’t he seal the deal?

Her Tiffany necklace, she ripped it off of her neck, and threw it down the steps. She was seething with fire. Murder was her desire. Hell was in her eyes and images of that dark skinned guy. She was coming up with ideas, of killing him while he tasted her.

Her home…., she was setting it ablaze as it was no longer safe. She was starting anew in a gazebo, in the jungle, in Africa, somewhere.

She almost fumbled the rock. Pictures of her shot on a New York City block, flashed repeatedly upon her mental screen. Mr. Assassin was whispering to her in her dreams, “I know who you are.”

“The audacity of this motha fucka!”

It was obvious that he had no clue who she was. If he did, he would’ve killed her dead. Because she was Ms. Kill ’em dead. He made a mistake letting her live.

She would hunt him until he was dead.
Twenty five mil’ was her price tag. Twenty five mil that he would never receive.

Indeed, she was the princess of darkness, enthralled by his darkness, she wouldn’t rest until all that he saw was darkness.

She slung the Versace China. Shards of ceramic and porcelain littered the floor. She was a woman scorned!

Ring the alarm– here comes her fire storm. She butcher knifed the couch to shreds. She would paint the world blood red, until Mr. Assassin was dead.

Who sent him? He would tell her right before she chopped off his dick. Then she would stuff it in his mouth…
CockSucker; had the game twisted.
Kill her? He had the chance but he missed it.

She put on her KB shades struck a match… Her mansion went up in flames. She whispered, “Femme Fatale”, as she strode away.

Bad Bitch Thug


She used to love him, now she didn’t. On to the next nigga.
Bigger bag! Different swag than the last, she move fast. He kept her laced to her acquired taste. Bad bitch thugging that’s her pace.
Expensive, elegant, extravagant! Diamonds, bags, and furs. He was silly… making the world hers.
She used to love him, but not anymore his love got pawned. His name was Shawn, she watched his sunset and stared off into a new dawn.
Her next mark was three times odd. She called him tongue tied Todd. Teasing him with the piercing in her tongue. Lounging, a mile high in the plush seats of his Lear. Sipping Ace of spades, his palate was wet they ain’t have sex yet! The cat had his tongue.
He was a square and she was a bad Bitch– on some gangsta shit! She used to love Todd until he died. One trip too many… his Lear jet crashed!
“Dam!” On to the next bag…
This one was a bit too good to be true. Lit nigga… Mississippi Lou. First purchase, he brought her a nickel plated twenty two, a Prada knapsack filled with stacks. Lingerie and some pumps from Jimmy Choo.
He loved her the most, brought her the Bentley Ghost. Then she got ghost she used to love him, but she didn’t anymore.
Her heart was sore from all this loving and Bad Bitch Thugging. Pure form… a Ghost, Loving them then disappearing. On to the next nigga. Chasing that once in a lifetime Jigga… or his type.
Fell into the arms of this nigga named Tite. He held the bag with all his might. Eyes focused, fist clenched tight. There was no relaxing that– she gave him leeway cause his dick game had her ass getting fat!
She stood pat, hips swaying knees weak. He kept her wig game on fleek and he definitely brought out her inner freak.
Young nigga always talking ’bout “No cap!” No cap– she pushed his wig back, for dipping in her Prada knapsack. And it was crazy cause she really loved him! Now she couldn’t anymore.
On to the next nigga…
He was a gangsta and she played his sweet pea. He let her run up the bag, while he ran the streets. She didn’t know if she was in love with him or his cash? She cooked, cleaned, and fucked him until she depleted his stash. Then she dashed. And she thought she loved him, but she didn’t. For her, this bad bitch shit was written.
The life she loved had her heart numb. But it was fun, spending up these niggas funds.
She did gymnastics on the pole, exercising her spirit. Not for the dough just to release her inner hoe on some meditation, zen, Deepak Chopra, transcendental, promiscuous shit… lap dancing on a bad bitch!
Soul sisters, eternal life partners, sensational bad bitch named Tosha. Kissing, sucking, and licking on her tits, internally making her cringe. This bitch was addictive… a full syringe.
Tosha invested all of her stripper ends and donated her cocaine white Benz. then it had to end. When you add one bad bitch to another bad bitch, you get one bad bitch dipping… off to the next bitch. And she used to love her, but it was hard loving these ho’s.
By now you know, this bitch ain’t slow flexing on to the next nigga… his name was Joe. White boy. Sold blow. Caked up. No joke! He spoiled her with raw bricks of coke. Her clientele was prime, he hit her with twenty at a time. She up charged to fifteen after first moving them for a dime a piece. Six figures easy!
That was the cost of her freak, Two fifty maybe more. She played it Joe. Sophisticated, educated, he believed that she was Harvard graduated, and she had a bachelor’s degree. To keep her lease on her condo on the beach is why She sold the keys. That’s what he believed.
When Joe got knocked, she had to go. Knapsack full, she took the blow and the dough. Shit was real– a few mill… bad bitch economics paid for his lawyer and the appeal. And she used to love him, but she didn’t anymore.
She was on a bad bitch tour!
She knew the angles, sexy pics galore, even naked with the four – four. Posted them on the Gram. Likes went ham!
Pan – am… Nicaragua! Dipped in Balenciaga. His name was Oscar. He signed over his wife’s lake house in Managua.
Hey!? If that’s how he wanted to pay. She never let him lay… Tobacco picking motha fucka! He enjoyed her space. He had that tobacco plantation real estate. And she only stopped there when she needed a break.
Oscar’s wife came to the house, blowing her shit! Emotionally incoherent and distraught, speaking that Nicaraguan shit. She didn’t fight. As usual, her game was active. Bad bitch manipulation tactics. She was feeling herself. She seduced Oscar into whacking his wife and then himself.
He was a layover, she never loved him and she was relieved not to see him anymore.
She decided to head home, her secret sanctuary in Yellowstone. Eyeing a cowboy nigga! Seven figures, she loved his figure and his large male member. Mind like Hov. She was like “woah!” He was her goal. So, she took it slow. Was this the love that she was searching for? He gave her the game. Knowledge was power. Her master’s degree. His name was Tyler. He wanted to get her pregnant and make her comfy.
She wanted to take it slow, he was moving too fast. It was great while it lasted. But she had to slide. And she was truly convinced, she used to love him but he wasn’t the right guy.
She was insatiably addicted to love, like an elusive drug. Searching so desperately for that intoxicating high. Always on the go… A bad bitch’s hero!
She was practically every niggas dream. Intellectually mean. Stimulating conversation, a peculiar fascination with love. Intuitively trained to effortlessly switch lanes, Change clothes.
A smooth criminal – getting to the bag!
A smooth lover – stealing hearts!
A smooth operator – game tight!
Styling on a hater bitch with a Bearkin bag and a switch. Top bitch, gangsta shit!
Bentley speeding down the corridor, distinctive roar, Four – four. Heart breaking! Yet, still craving that elusive sensation. Who was her next love?
Bad Bitch Thug!

Emotionally So

The breeze blew into the bedroom through the balcony door. There he stood, fifteen stories above the city. He was looking over the city it was a beautiful night. Yet, a storm was brewing in the bedroom.

Tears were running down his wife’s face, and she was screaming “I can’t believe you!”

“It wasn’t me!” he screamed back. Never taking his eyes off of the city below.

“Yes… yes it was; I saw you with my own eyes” She sobbed. She told her husband to: “drop the act because you’re caught… so caught!” She scrolled through her phone “I have pictures and all” So hurt… so heartbroken she was. She had to leave.

“I gave you the world… Bags… Diamonds… and Pearls!” He shook his head in disbelief. He was hurt… So hurt! “Now you’re telling me you’re leaving… what’s going on girl?” He couldn’t understand it at all. It was all happening to fast.

There she was, packing her bags. Emotionally so. Tears were streaming down her face, her heart was bleeding. Inconsolably so.

And there he stood, staring off of the balcony, arms wrapped around his chest. He was: Disloyal, a Deceiver, Treacherous, Untrue to his word! A vow he promised to never break… he broke!

He swindled her out of her heart. “Uh uh uh!”

He was seeing red. He couldn’t see. His marriage was becoming a faded picture. All because of lust, but, it wasn’t love. Now, all was lost, and he was hurt.

And, she wouldn’t allow him to explain it away “Baby, baby, baby please…” it away.

She turned away from his pleas. She could not allow him to further deceive. Her cries, his pleas. They were so emotional. A love lost.

A love lost… Not if he could bargain her back. “I’ll give you whatever you desire. Just stay!” He pleaded. “The new car and house you asked for… the boat, fuck it I’ll buy you a yacht… just please baby give me another shot!”

“O so you do admit to being disloyal?”

“I admit nothing!” He screamed he was now in the house, back still turned to his wife. He couldn’t face her. He was looking out the balcony window; pain and regret filled his body, along with a little sorrow.

So emotional!

He just wished she would “put your bags away, and let’s talk about this tomorrow”

No more holding back she could hold back no longer. Her tears flowed freely, and so would her truth. “You said that you were on a business trip, but you lied” She cried harder.

“I didn’t lie baby” He spoke equivocally so. Loosening his tie.

“I followed you…” she sobbed. “… I saw when you made the sudden detour. I stayed your course… following you down winding roads along the countryside…”

She stood, and pulled her suitcase to the bedroom door. “…Stealthily… I observed you enter her home, as if, you were home.” She still couldn’t believe that she saw what she seen. The memory was so painful.

“You were wrong… and I was wrong for believing that you were true” The marriage was over – she dropped her wedding band to the floor with elegance! She was through.

Oh No — She dropped his heart! “Oh No… baby don’t go” He begged earnestly so. Down on bended knees, finger indexing the ring… Reproposing. “Believe me baby it wasn’t me… still I’m sorry.”

“Your sorries mean nothing to me!” She turned her back and began down the steps. Her dress dragged in her wake. He followed; Rhapsodically so.

“Stop my love” He cried, giving her dress a tug.

She stopped. Wiping her last tear. Poetically so. “I saw you dance on her… on the floor… of that bar on the coast… you touched her as if she was me…”

He gasped at the memory.

“You slow danced in the dark, unaware of me as I watched from afar with furtive glances… I was hurt… so hurt” She touched her hand to her heart. “Caught, so caught.” She shook her head hurtfully so.

“Baby don’t leave out that door!” He said blocking her way. “I made a mistake baby… a mistake that I would never remake”

He guarded the door “Baby it’s cold outside”

“Then you leave!” She said pointing to the door. Fiercefully so.

Him leaving his house was not an option. “No baby, how about we stay.” He grabbed her, She pulled away. Fancifully so.

She was leaving, even if it was the back way, off of the balcony. The bags, the house, and the car he could have. But, he would not take her dignity… her honor was hers.

“I’m leaving” She screamed, headed back up the steps.

He followed close behind. “I will not allow you to go” If he lost her, his soul was sure to follow. “I’m sorry it was a mistake” He cried admittedly so. “Please just take time to think!.. Here, in this house baby”

“Uh!” She shook her head. “So shady” He was. For all these years, he perpetrated the fraud. In his word, she believed. By his words, she was lost. By his actions, she was disturbed. “Unsettling… just the thought of my husband with another woman.” She twisted the locks on the door. Her grand exit!..

Seeing her go so painful! He closed his eyes departedly so. A marriage dead or on the precipice dyeing! He slammed the door with force. He couldn’t let her leave off of the balcony… there was nowhere to go.

“You’re married to me!”

“I used to be”

O what a misfortune this was.

“With you goes my soul. how could you take my love?” His cheeks were wet and stained with tears. He wept, uncontrollably so.

“Loyal I was… in you, I placed my love… let me leave — you can never regain my trust!” She ran down the steps into the kitchen. Of course, he followed.

“You took a vow — one that could only be egressed through blood!”

Her eyes looked up, suddenly so.

There he stood in the kitchen, holding a knife. This love was worth a life; living; loving; in eternity, they would.

“You would kill me… o love?”

He nodded, Assuredly so. This was a love with tragedy.

“Well I’m leaving through the door or by death. But, my love for you, there’s none left.” She turned her back, pridefully so.

“You stabbing me in the back… the way my love for you will go.”

She was hurt, so hurt. Dying by the one that she loved and cared for when he was sick she was his nurse.

And, there he stood. Behind her back, raising the knife above his head, as if she was the one who slept out of their bed.

No! He couldn’t kill his wife, his love… he couldn’t do it. Murder, wasn’t in his heart. His hands were shaking, irrepressibly so.

“I can’t, for you my heart is weak… you can leave”

She turned to face him. He looked, shamefully so.

“Just know that my love for you will never sleep” His soul, his lies, his deceit!

Her heart, her being, she was taking it back from him.

“Go!” He howled, and pushed the knife into his heart, suicidally so.

“Noo!” She screamed. Too late! She covered her face. Her love was bleeding “I’m sorry” No time to reconcile. Her love was gone; forever loveless she was.

And there he lay, soulless he was. She held him. She was covered in blood, and tears. A love dead!

THE END!

EPILOGUE…

So far gone. Oh how far gone she was?.. To the point of no return. Oh there was no way that she could return. She was there, at the point of no return.

Forsaken! All for naught.

A vision of what once was appeared before her eyes. What was apparent?.. Oh what was apparent… the night wind blowing through her fur… the city below.

Her heels scraped the stone ledge. To jump, or not to jump? A slip would be fatal. A stumble to a long agonizing death.

A fifteen story slide into Lethe! Looking down… never look down… the old cliché. Her eyes, she couldn’t remove them from the night below. She breathed, then flew. Her echo!!!