Poetic Justice : ( Chris Brown Story )

Poetic Justice ₪ XXXIV

Brielle

Nothing was helping me relax, my whole body feels tight all over I have no way of releasing this tension. Between Chris, Kataleah, and the media I can't get a damn break. Found out that Kataleah's mom popped back into the picture, it was a one night thing she only wanted money. Didn't even bother to speak to her own daughter. Kataleah thought she was coming back for her good thinking her mother was going to take her away from me, as for the stairs incident it's still unclear. But she not going to be alone with Mijo anymore I know that for sure. Maybe we're getting too attached to each other, I would love to help her but I can't keep this up if this little girl gets crazy over me. She tried to call me mommy, I'm okay with her being so close and open with me but that's a bit too much. Something is going to happen that's going to cause me unable to see her anymore, that little girl is going to be hurt bad and I don't want responsible for that pain of abandonment she's going to feel. Best I end it now.

But before I build up the strength to do that I need to chill, today I'm taking my first class of prenatal yoga. I'm determined to go get some peace in my life. Even if it means posing in my positions that got me pregnant in the first place, let's get it! After an hour of leg opening, zen music, and stretching I was good to go. But I wasn't going to Ryan's just to get my mood fucked up, I went home to my boys.

"Your a damn cheater! What the hell you doing?"

"Don't get mad at me cause your ass losing, you know the deal. I win you rubbing my feet!" I smirked as we played Burnout together on the PS3.

"Nah you cheating, you always cheating when we play games."

I laughed, "Boo hoo nigga! That's why you losing now cause you bitchin'."

"Aight watch I got something for that ass. Watch, you looking?"

"I don't see you, where you at babe?"

"Now what, you ain't talking the shit now."

Chris used all his juice to catch up to me, it ended up putting him in first place so his ass won.

I smirked. "Aight your ass won go head get your cocky on, you don't have to rub my feet."

He smiled pulling my legs up on his lap. "You lucky I want to, give me the corns."

I laughed kicking him playfully in the stomach. "Don't play yourself, I don't have corns!"

Chris went to work on my feet, as Mijo ran in from around the corner.

"I mad!" He said angrily.

"Why baby? Did daddy do it, want me to beat him up for you?"

"No, a boy called me a name at the park."

"What he say?" Chris asked.

"I'm a creamy, what's that momma?"

"I don't know, why would he say that?"

"Cause I didn't look like him, what am I?"

No way a two year old should be asking why he's being called racially out of his name. What world do we live in when a little ass boy is upset because someone didn't want to play with him because of how he looks? What type of shit is that?

"Come here Mijo," I said putting him between Chris and I. "I'm a bit lighter than daddy because I'm Puerto Rican, I'm proud of my color too! I'm happy being who I am."

"You are a young black boy, say it." Chris said.

"I am a young black boy."

"Good, everyone comes in different colors . Brown, Black, White, Red, Yellow. Don't let no one tell you who you are or have to be, you're a mix of Puerto Rican, African American, and Native American."