Want to know what I'm thinking?

I am not a poet

So don’t address me as such

I’m simply someone who writes down my emotions and thoughts

It allows me to process them creatively with seeing my words written down

I think a million times a minute so sometimes I can’t even keep up

There’s so much going on in my head at all times

There’s songs, arguments, scenarios, music, anxiety, anxiousness, disappointment, uncertainty, lust, anger, sadness and so many things

You probably think I’m crazy

I want to be able to sit and be aware of the things around me

Appreciate the time that I’m here

But my mind is filled with so many things that my memory is clogged between the things that I think and the things I’ve seen

Sometimes my thoughts are so vivid that they become real

And sometimes my dreams are so vivid that I get nervous because I never understand what they mean

So I read a lot and to try to redirect my focus

My attention span is so short that if yesterday passed I didn’t notice

I’m a writer a creative and I’m a lot of things 

But one thing I can tell you I am not, is a poet

Every few years there’s a guy who comes into my life and disrupts my process

But I can only be at fault because I allow him to

All I want is somebody to talk to

Somebody who wants to talk to me

And every time I find myself giving more than I receive

Sometimes I try to be a strong woman who knows what she wants

I set the boundaries for the relationship and I don’t require much

Then later on down the line I’m left empty and unhappy because I gave myself away before anybody claimed to have wanted me in the first place

I can’t help but to be insecure and feel like I’m not good enough

I’m always just enough to be around but not enough to be desired

One day I want a husband and a family but I’ll never get there if I keep letting people use me before I get to him

Because now he’ll see me as broken and undesirable

All because I gave someone else the perks of his wife without commitment

This pattern of lust and uncertainty ends today

This interruption of my process will stop

I am a strong woman who knows what I want

And when you find me you will see that I am not broken

I may be used but I am not weak

And my misinterpretation of love will no longer suffice

I won’t let another guy disrupt my process with uncertainties, potential, lies and manipulation

That all ends here

So when you see me know that I’m not the same person who needed validation

I know most of you have  your own horror stories about how you lost your virginity. Some of you might have really nice ones, but this ain’t that! I’m here to give the hard truth about what it felt like to lose my virginity. Long story short, it was not pretty. So there I was at fifteen years old, with my then boyfriend.

I don’t know why I felt like fifteen was the perfect age to lose my virginity at the time. Now that I’m older, I’ve realized it was bullshit! I convinced my mom to let me stay the night over a friends house. Two twin sisters and my other really close friend. Anyway we were drinking. That’s right! DRINKING! Hard liquor! Goose, I think. And I was so drunk. My boyfriend was out at a tattoo party with his friends and at some point, I called him. He realized I was staying the night at the twins house and decided to ditch the party and come home to me.

When he got there, we just talked for a minute. He was so sweet and we kissed. Then we decided to go upstairs. I knew it was about to go down!!! In my Kevin Hart voice. I don’t know whose room we were in, but we got in the bed and continued kissing. He slowly caressed me and took my clothes off. Then, he fingered me. It didn’t feel good but it didn’t hurt. I moaned anyway. He slid on a condom then he tried to put “IT” in, and I almost died from the agony. I didn’t look down or at “IT”. I was too afraid.

It hurt like HELL and he was like, “Are you OK, because that’s not even the tip.” I said, “yes” for I don’t know why because I felt like my ass was falling out my ass. He kept slowly inching in. I felt like my ass was about to explode! My whole bottom half felt like it was spread wide open. Like I was going to shit all my insides out all over the bed. It hurt so bad. I coped with the pain as best I could, moaning through torture.

My moans sounded like pleasure but really I was dying. He proceeded to flip me over and place me on top of him in the riding position. Like why as a virgin did you think I would be able to withstand riding you? As if the missionary position wasn’t painful enough. If you could see my face! I sat there for a minute because, mind you, I’m a virgin. I have no idea what to do and I feel like I’m about to shit on myself. So he held my waist and tried to help me. That lasted for about 10 seconds before I said, “OK! That’s enough!” Shit hurt like HELL!

Then he tried another position!! Woah buddy was trying to break me in real fast! I don’t know what convinced him that I was ready to take “IT” but I must be a good actor. So he pulled me by my legs, to the side of the bed and proceeded to pound my insides. At that point I had enough! Too much pain and not enough pleasure, so I called it quits. One of friends ran me a bath and I just was in awe of what had taken place. I bled of course because that’s what happens.

Once I went back downstairs to the rest of the party who was there to witness my animal noises, he was there to comfort me. In the end I didn’t feel any different. Just pain. And regret. If I could do it over, I would. If you’re younger and reading this, just know that as a teenager, losing your virginity isn’t like the movies. Also, I broke up with him not too long after that, so it wasn’t even worth it.

If you want to hear more stories like this, please comment! Thank you!

Hello readers! Yes I am back with another crazy story. If you have read my previous blogs, then you already know what this series is about. Remember in my previous blog Dirty Little Secrets 3, when I introduced a childhood friend named Shauna? If not, then you should go back and read it. Anyway this story is about how Shauna and I stopped being friends.

We were in all the same classes from 6 to 7th grade. That’s how we became so close. We formed a trio with Shauna, this girl Lauren and myself. After I started the rumor about Shauna stuffing her bra, we were kind of still friends, but more like frenemy’s. You know how middle school girls can be. Anyway, so in one of my classes I was friends with this really cool girl named Javee’. Javee’ was heavy set and not the cutest at the time but I wasn’t that cute either. Anyway she was really funny and we got along but Shauna wasn’t cool with her. When Shauna and I were close, she use to talk mad dirt about Javee’. I was friends with both of them so I just kept to myself and didn’t get involved.

One day though, I was outside with some of my classmates in the courtyard, and peeped that Shauna was being real buddy buddy with Javee’. Now, it could have been the jealousy in me that my two separate friends were being friendly towards each other. But, I felt like Shauna was fake as fuck (excuse my language) because she talked so much smack about this girl behind her back. In the mist of me making my “fake ass Shauna” statement, my other friend April asked me if I wanted Shauna to know what I said. I said, “I don’t care.” And April proceeded to let Shauna know how I felt.

Shauna got mad and she walked over to me. Called me a fake bitch and a hoe, which made no sense at all. She just wanted something to say. I tried to have a witty come back but it came out something like,” Whatever you want to be black Puerto Rican bitch!” Yea ok. I was mad that I didn’t have a good come back so I decided to mush her HARD! She stumbled towards one of the fences that surrounded the garden in our school courtyard. I don’t know why I didn’t expect her to hit me back.  She got steady footing and pushed me. I got embarrassed and just grabbed her whole head, then we got to fighting. I remember it was a quick fight. We both fell on the ground and her long hair was covering my eyes so I couldn’t see. I just start punching her in the side of the head and I couldn’t tell if it hurt so I kept punching harder and harder. At some point I was able to swing her in a half circle by her hair, then I let go. Breathing heavily and probably looking a mess because she ripped out my fake bun I pinned down. She got up cussing and yelling,” Pick up your weave bitch! Pick up your weave!” My friends all raced toward me when it was over, screaming how awesome it was and how I whooped her ass. Then I was proud because for a second there I wasn’t sure who was winning the fight. As she walked away disheveled, Javee’ soft ass was consoling her. Not even knowing I was defended her honor. Somebody said that Shauna was on her way to tell the principal so we all ran out of the courtyard to the near by bus station.  It was Thanksgiving break so I was off the hook for now. 

When we got back from Thanksgiving break, the principal called me into his office and asked me to write a statement of my version of what happened. After he read my statement he looked dead at me with a serious face and basically didn’t believe my shit. I told him Shauna hit me first, which was a lie. Then the same friends that were cheering me on a few days ago snitched on me in their account saying how I started the fight. I don’t know if they actually told, but the principal said that they did and I believed him. Shauna’s mom was so mad she wanted to fight me herself. She was talking shit to me when she saw me walk past, to go into the principals office.

I went home and told my mom I was suspended and all she asked was,”Did you win?” My mom knew I really wasn’t a fighter or trouble maker so I guess that’s why she wasn’t pressed to punish me. Months later Shauna and I made up and apologized to each other. But our friendship couldn’t withstand time because she started being a fake ass bitch again and I probably was a fake as fuck too.

That’s the end of this series for now. If you want to hear more stories comment bellow. Thanks guys!

If you have read the first 3 blogs of this series, then you should already know what to expect. I have stories for days about my stupid kid logic and what I tried to get away with as a child. So lets continue shall we.

Now this story is a little different because its not something I did or purpose, nor do I think my punishment was necessary. So I’m in the third grade, and I remember we had those huge square desks that you could open up and put your utensils in. We also had assigned seats. I sat behind this chubby kid named, well I don’t remember his name. So I’ll call him, Duane. I sat behind chubby Duane, and all of our desks were in a row. At this particular time, we must not have been doing much work because a lot of my classmates were talking to each other.

I remember tapping chubby Duane on his shoulder to ask him something. He ignored me. I asked him again. He ignored me again. Without thinking I took my pencil and stuck him in the back of the arm to get his attention. It wasn’t sharp, however, immediately the little wimp called the teacher to tell on me. Obviously, I defended the situation because I didn’t think I did anything wrong. After that everything was fine, so I thought.

The next day at school, I’m standing by my locker talking to my friend. This big grumpy lady walked up on me (Remember I am in the 3rd grade) and asked me my name. I told her who I was and lo and behold standing behind her is chubby Duane. His mother pointed her finger in my face and went, “Don’t you ever put your hands on my son again!” Then proceeded to show me his scratch that was literally the size of a maggot, if that. In my mind, I’m like, I barely touched dude, it’s not my fault his skin is made of paper. I couldn’t say anything because I was scared of this big woman and she was an adult. So she proceeded to make a scene and then I got called into the principals office.

We had a woman Principal so I’ll call her Shirley. Shirley had the most unflattering makeup I had ever seen. And, I barely knew anyone who wore makeup at that time but it was a hot mess. She looked exactly like someone who was prepared to be in a casket. Anyway, Shirley had expressed to me how disappointed she was of me and how the school doesn’t condone violence or bully’s blah blah blah. And I’m thinking, I’m really getting into trouble for just trying to get his attention? So, Shirley had called my mom. Of course, my mom was pissed she had to come to the school, because she was at work that day. To my surprise my mom wasn’t even that mad at me, she was more mad at how dumb the situation was and how everyone escalated it to be a hate crime against chubby kids.

Long story short, I was technically suspended for the rest of the day but I still stayed at school anyway because my mom went back to work. And I didn’t associate with chubby Duane for the rest of the school year. But that probably wasn’t the last time I was in trouble. So moral of the story is, when someone is ignoring you, let them. The End.

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Welcome back to my blog, Dirty Little Secrets 3. This story is about how I got into trouble as a preteen for….. well just listen to the story. I was in the seventh grade, the first time I noticed that I didn’t have any boobs. Why did I care? Because all my friends had them and my mom didn’t bless me with any. At this time, I was friends with this really pretty Puerto Rican girl named Shauna. She became my bestie on the first day of school in sixth grade. Shauna had really full breasts for our age and I was so envious. At some point Shauna and I got into a fight (another story for another time). But during our friendship I started a rumor about her stuffing her bra.

Now, the ironic part of this story is that I was the one actually stuffing my bra. Nobody at school knew, but let me explain how I did it and how my mom found out. First of all I had no idea what bra size I even wore but I think it was equivalent to a negative AA. I was skinny and awkward, plus I had no idea how to dress my body. Clearly I was a hot mess. My God father took me bra shopping and I bought two bras that were 3 sizes bigger than I was. He looked at them but didn’t say anything and let me get them anyway. He was probably thinking. This little girls body is none of my business. I started stuffing them with tissue. Then I put a sports bra over those to make them appear realistic? Idk, because they were stiff as fuck and I don’t even remember if anyone noticed that my boobs grew over night.

Fast forward to 8th grade, still stuffing my bra. My mom and I were in the Payless shoe store and I was trying on shoes. I remember this day like it was yesterday. I wore a really cute tight fitted V neck sweater, with some dark jeans and boots, I think. My fake titties are on full display and I think I’m all that. Anyway, as I’m bent down trying on my shoes, I don’t even realize that my mom can see clear into the top of my shirt. She reached over and snatched the balls of tissue out of my shirt and threw them on the floor in the store! It happened so fast I couldn’t even blink. I was so embarrassed. It was like she ripped my chest off, literally.

I looked around but didn’t see anyone else in the isle as a witness to this embarrassment. However, Payless did have those mirrors on the ceiling and it made the moment even more horrifying. My mom cussed me out too. But all I can remember from that is how small my boobs got and how I would have to do a better job hiding my fake boobs.

Months later I got caught again for the same bullshit and my mom beat me with a close hanger. I stopped stuffing my boobs after that. None of my classmates ever said anything about it and we all acted like nothing happened as I sat in class with my flat ass chest.

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If you guessed that I have another crazy story to tell you about my kid logic and things I did as a child to manipulate my mom, then you are right! This, as the title states, is Dirty Little Secrets Two. Today my story is short and a sweet. Well, maybe not sweet, but short. Anyway, as a child I can admit that I never enjoyed school work, I can remember getting D’s as early as Kindergarten. No I am not challenged in the least bit, but I’ve come to realize that the way my teachers taught didn’t interest me. So, I found ways to entertain myself.

My favorite things to do in school, appose to actually learning, were talking, drawing, and writing. Of course, my teachers noticed that I wasn’t participating in certain things, so I got in trouble, A LOT! Especially for disrupting class by talking to one of my classmates, instead of doing my own work. One time I got a really bad report card in the sixth grade. I think I had like one B, one A, a D, C and two fat F’s. Well, back in the day, Teachers use to let you take home your report card, instead of mailing them out. I could not give that report card to my mom because she would kill me for sure!

In my dumb kid logic, I decided to ask one of my classmates to write a note to my mom that stated, ” Dear Miss Champion. I wanted to let you know that I made a mistake in grading Bre’Onna’s report card. Her actual grade in my class is a B.” She even faked a signature, signed whoever my teacher was at the time. Which by the way is illegal so DO NOT try this at home.  When she finished, I took a black pen and changed one of my F’s to a B. Smart right? To a twelve year old, yes.

So I took my report card home and before I gave the letter and report card to my mom, I briefed her on the misunderstanding. My mom literally stared right into my soul. She didn’t express any sign of emotion what so ever. She read the note and she just looked at me and said, “OK.” In my mind, I knew I was DEAD. I was so nervous I couldn’t even say anything else, so I just walked away and went and hid in the bathroom. Long story short approximately ten minutes later, I told her I was lying and that it was a joke. Honestly, I don’t remember how I got into trouble but I think I was on punishment for a LONG time. She was more mad that I thought I could lie and manipulate her than me getting bad grades. Moral of the story is honesty is the best policy!

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Judging by the the title, I bet most of you reading this thought I would be talking about sex or other inappropriate things. Well you are wrong! This blog is full of dirty little secrets, meaning stories about my childhood and some of the crazy things I did. Some are about how I thought I could out smart my mom. Some are about just in general how dumb kids logic is. Of course, I can’t fit each story in one blog, so if you like this story I will continue to tell you more.

I’ll start this story off by saying I was about four or five people, so don’t judge me. We lived in an apartment building on the third floor of a low income housing development called, The Valley.  I’m not sure what time of night it was because I didn’t look. There weren’t many digital clocks back in the 90’s. I’m in my bed and I hear these rumbling noises. I had no idea where the noises were coming from and I was so tired. Yet, I didn’t feel anything by the way, but something told me to get out of bed and go to the bathroom. I get there and lo and behold, I have pooped my pants. I don’t remember what I ate that night but obviously I had Diarrhea. For some reason I knew exactly what to do (In my five year old logical thinking) so I took the soiled underwear off, washed up and put new ones on. I couldn’t throw the underwear in the trash because they smelled like shit, and my mom would notice. So I took them, and threw them outside my bedroom window into the courtyard. We lived in an apartment. So, I knew no one would suspect it was me and my mom would never know!

But, after going back to sleep, I woke up again with the exact same problem. So what did I do? I repeated the exact same steps from before and threw those out the window too.  When I woke up the next morning, it was like a regular day. The sun was shining and no one knew that I had pooped my pants. I get up and go to the window to look outside, and I could have shit my pants again for what I saw. Two of my friends and neighbors have my soiled draws on a stick saying, “Bre, Look at these! Ewwwww.” I was so horrified!  I don’t know why I didn’t expect kids my age to find this funny, even though it’s actually disgusting to play with someone’s dirty shitty underwear. What did I do? I played it off and laughed and said ewwwww, right along with them. They’re just as disgusting for playing with my shitty draws. However, still to this day, no one knew that those were mine and I got away with it. Luckily for me I haven’t shit my pants since.
The end.

If you want to hear more dirty little secret stories of crazy things I did as a kid, comment bellow. Thank you.