I saw in a dream a girl
front desk of the secretary hospital
sitting
she was wearing glasses
pale porcelain, black hair, white blouse,
drug dealer, she pushed back her chair
she told them to get me
and then next thing you know
a week later from that dream
the ambulance showed up to my house
and then I heard her over the phone
she told me I wasn’t going into the hospital today
they told me joseph called them over
months later I got locked up
and I saw her name written by the phone booth in the psych ward Katherine
I was dialing a number
and all of a sudden a voice came through
I been trying to dial my mother for the longest time but they told me the phones they were fixing it any who I cant remember what she said from all the problems, drugs, medicine fighting over money, fighting over joseph. But I do know I got so pissed off
I banged the phone repeatedly in so much distress and violence
I think she might have told me her name
the same one Im starring at on the wall
I got discharged weeks later
as I closed my eyes to sleep again
in another dream I see her
on his lap in the night time
he was trying to keep his balance
but I saw underneath he was ready to fuck her fast and hard
and I get into a deep, dangerous jealousy
like a volcano
for her but never for me
I wake up and do my daily routine
and then go on Instagram
I got a message
she asked me about a book I never mentioned and then I started to realize her poetry was mines I have written so much and took so much time and effort to stare at my love to write this
I am obsessed with smell it went perfect with lana del Rey body electric. I am smart and so creative and a sex addict it wasn’t too hard to write. I knew what I wanted and gathered a listing of words and wrote to my liking. I had to block her after knowing what I know. She started talking like joseph and they both didn’t want me with any money and she was kind of teasing me. Rubbing in my face and I just stay silent. and block. I pray I get it back my 7 lost poems so I can finally accomplish something. These women have been getting me pimped out, stealing all my sneakers, clothes, money, art like I am Cinderella. They all naked running around trying to take me down chasing after joseph. Its really sad and a real women will have enough confidence to just get the man without fighting any other women. They must be lacking something. All my poems were inspired by him my first crush, first and last love, my never to be. The one man I will always want and love. I would always dwell
on the love I planned and could never give to him. I'll never be able to give him anything of me
because the mean girls are wasting my time
like a pawn they make the moves for me
like planning out, controlling my life with their
pretty little lies, theirs shows
it was like stage four of pancreatic cancer
but I let him taste the honey first
that came from my lips still
I just wanted to be the nastiest
and different
I can't even have that myself
they were taking everything from me
and everything was pink
I was writing about all the times I saw him and his lovers break up and my fantasy's
stalking him and watching every little detail
my notes, notebook
my emotions, personality
my vision, words
my papers in my draw, my cell phone
she's blocked
and he blocks me now
there’s a lot of women but this is what I know
and maybe it could be someone else
two different people
but let me just tell you and you tell meLater on those same ambulance men said we did it
from a building not too far from watching him burn.
I saw her again in my crystal ball
and she was in the living room with a hoodie on
I was in the bathroom trying to get out
and then I saw the upstairs how dark it was.
I listen to her voice now all the time
cold. empty. dark. miserable.
All the girls hiding now are all walking around
since I am on the ground, watching
and he dives in and swims.
I already know I have to forget about him
like all his women tell me
I'd ignore anything of him
like he never meant the world to me.
This is goodbye.
my final hour was that day I told him they're coming for me.
He said nothing just like the first time we ever met.
I realized he never loved me. You stold from me you don’t steal from someone you love when they are dirt poor and you have a job, and are being spoiled by other women who buy you your stuff. I was a virgin, and you didn’t care. You had other plans. You slap my face to not look at other men but do not protect me. So now every summer I am your sadness, and you are mines.
The girls took everything from me fighting over him. They told me they would kill me for him and they all stood together they didn’t want me next to them though. It reminded me of a dream I had that all the girls were lined up naked on the floor for him, Virgo. Just like in Beyonce’s music video. They all were running around and they all sharing him, and shitting on me trying to break up our marriage. It ended in 2014 December. Then what went wrong was fixed and ended again. Now we in court for divorce, fighting over child coustdy.
-tease.
About the Creator
Fuck Pretty!!
I am a song-writer, author, priest and a median.
PINTEREST @pb-poetry
number- 917-688-5830 text only
Ig- @fuck_prettyy___ follow if you want too
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Grave Yard
I could hear a women say no in grief, as there was someone walking like a monster with a mouth full of needles hanging out of it, by the projects. The Spanish people said it was Halloween as NYC streets turned to sands and two Spanish men tried to lore me into a hotel room. They said this is Egypt and they wanted me sick. They close the curtains and I see Brittany with the same Spanish guy she has on her Facebook is there too. Then I fall asleep, and I could see my lover surrounded by a lot of women in a hotel, and I could see his eyes opened wide. There was a man driving a black car looking for me with a gun, but since he could not find me, he puts the gun to his mouth. I wake up out of insanity and a racing heart. I tried to stay home and stay calm but something too me over the edge when I kept thinking about my dream. I wish I had a friend to keep me calm so I can stay in my room waiting for help. Like he is fine he’s a grown man he can protect himself. It is me who needs to stay put and relax, just relax. But no, I ran into the night, and I went to far in this black ocean and that same man from me dream came to me. His words were do you like me. I looked in joseph’s direction and saw he would not pen the door to me, and I dreamed my dream and I fell. I was too scared to run knowing he had a gun. I was dead either way. I told him to take me to joseph and he took me by the oasis hotel then to pelham garden. Where I seen everything happen. I was too scared to ask for help or to scream, I thought to run by the highway and get help. I knew no one in this hotel was going to help me. I was dead, and they was repeating history of lana del rey summertime sadness. I went down this hallway that seemed familiar with him. He opened the door I went inside, he stopped me from going into the bathroom. The way he was acting scared me so I tried to open the hotel door but it was like someone was holding it from the outside unlocked or locked the door would not open. I look at the man and he is just laying on the bed pretending to be asleep. I then end up on the bed where he hits me and acts weird, and I could not move. Due to all the poison that I put in myself over the years with the hospital I am always passing out when I don’t want to sleep its not normal. So, I went to sleep, and I woke up to an injection down my throat and I was burning. He then dropped me off down my block to where the Spanish people were. He had long hair, nice cheekbones, shorter than 5’2 very strong. I just knew who this was, and I felt so sad where I spent my nights for the past 3 years burning with boils all over me, strokes, screaming out of my sleep, my skin peeling off. Then the acs and act team took me and tried to kill me through mental health services. I got a vision they were going to murder me and lie about it saying I committed suicide. But I survived because I thought about my daughter and sister. I went through all that sadness and fought my way back to life. I had no energy nothing. I did not understand how these people are running around with injections of diseases it had to come from the hospital no? All my neighbors made fun of me calling me a sick dog, laughing at me and telling me I was going to get beat up. It never was joseph who was apart of it, I see. Just the women who are following the Bronx Beyonce is what they call her. She did everything. The police had turned this into titanic in 2013 and they said they’re job was not to keep me safe. I should of knew better to defend myself more or call my mother let her tell me what to do to go back home safe no raped. The police, hospital and gangs did something really big just to find out it was never joseph. But the Spanish people are getting people sick and theres a lady screaming at me saying im a prostution and looking at me looks like your screaming at an 8 year old child. Pretty sad. The same women began to say I cant let joseph see me too pretty or they will fuck me up. So they get me raped, rob me, and lock me up in a mental hospital and plot on ways to kill me to make it look like I was an heroin addict and It was suicide. I was their god and mary was Katherine. She was jasmine they said I had to fight her. She even tempted joseph to rob me for her. She told me why do I need money same thing the Spanish people bully me outside for. She was one of the pimps ruining my life and taking my soul away. Where she then called police on me she told them to get me and she was the boss and they listen. They come to my home and put her over the phone to let me know when im being locked up in the mental hospital. She’s a spoiled brat bullying me with the line of women using that man just for sex nothing else. I wake up and I can hear them laughing at me and partying and they told me he had cancer. I went back to sleep and see he was with the Spanish people and the white girls too and he had cancer because of them and the black girls were with them to riding with him, on him for him. He was all wrinkled and smoking a cigarette like they took all his energy and used him up. I never even had a chance to have him it was already over since the moment we first talked on valentines day. A few years later they put me in a mental hospital for valentines day. They said here now you can go get joseph and I got sicker with no money and hard to get ajob. But then they went crazier and more savage and played their cards right. There was no way out if I stay home the ambulance would be called on me to go back in for lock up and if I go outside im dead, and if I ask for a job its no . everything is no they pulled a rihanna. I had to give them my soul, my life, my money, my heart, my vagina, my ass, my mouth, my clothes, my documents, my everything like a slave. Where they even took my personality and identity. My doctor said I was going to be someone big. I knew it too when I wrote all my music and poetry and if I was pretty all the option I had for my work. But now I had nothing because I had to give everything to the women who were looking for jospehs attention until they are done with him. It has nothing to do with anything else. Then the hospital locks me up for two years straight giving me an injection that made me want to commit suicide i stood up for 4 days they said it was a mood stabilizer. I call the hospital they lie to me say its zyprexa and said only doctors can get that information. I tried to report the injustice and crimes I dont know anybody heard but im dying. My sister was kidnapped and dying screaming at the top of her lungs. While everyone is just partying having fun and robbing all my hard work god gave to me to shit on everyone and build confidence and win this war. They were lingerie and play colombiana. Why do I have to die and my soul taken because you wnat a aman what do I have to do with anything. This is where I have wrote quotes for victoria secret and these are the typeof women i like they have a good soul. The ones out here in bronx nottoo much they are evil.
By Fuck Pretty!!4 years ago in Fiction
What If Social Media Required a Driver’s License.
Social media shapes behavior at scale. It influences attention, mood, politics, and identity. Access requires no proof of skill or understanding. You receive powerful tools without training. This mismatch creates harm alongside benefit. A license requirement offers a way to test responsibility before access.
By Wilson Igbasiabout 7 hours ago in Humans
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