Cliche Is My Middle Name - The Other Woman

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                                        " An Ounce Of Prevention Is Worth A Pound Of A Cure "  

When he touches her, I can feel the sensivity trail down my arm with softness. No more chasing him, I'm getting too exhausted. Yes, I'm exhausted like a faucet that only has drips to share. I've been sitting too long in the debt of my despair. Loose hairs falling down my back from the comeback of a women that I resented. She stabs into my heart like a wooden splinter. Just jabbing at me like a war. Is it alright to say that she eats me up to the core ; I hate her. She's ruining my life like cold ice glaciers. Let me get into my space ship and fly away ; trust me, Azalea will come back another day. But what if the other day is tomorrow, so that I can rest in peace in my sorrow. She stepped forth asking could she borrow and instead me accpeting the offer, I charged her. This sh*t is not free, if I worked hard, then we all work like slaves cause that's how it is right. You work for one night and then the night cuts off the lights leaving you stuck where you came from. Our history is reliving son. Son come on and take mommy's hand. They say when the two tango they form a dope ass dance. But I'm not doing that sh*t. So far I quit cause one day he says he loves me and then the next he's never home ; instead he's spending time with a b*tch that doesn't even belong. Bring me a studio, some fake friends, and freshly clean Benz. I'm not a singer, nor a writer but I need to write this shit down. I'm spittin' so hard like Ambulance sounds. Yes b*tch, sound the alarm. Bow down to your Queen and work on ya' farm. Peasants ! That's what you are to me, you get under my skin like a blood-sucking flee, flee away to another day, so that I can be happy. But what the hell is happy when I'm the one whose hurting? My head hangs low like Beyonce when she hits the wrong note. I'm ashamed of our fame when people are snickering and joking around. I'm the cover of the magazine, I should me astonished, but I'm not that careful girl has been shot. I stood in that closet watching the blood drip from her heart as they wiped it up with a mop. When he places his hand upon her thigh, I drip wet like rain from the sky. My eyes water when he looks into her eyes ; I can feel him calling her beautiful to calm the b*tch down. She's the one whose crying and I'm the one whose lying to myself. What the hell is wrong with her? And what the hell does she need help with? Resentment swiggled down my spine, I want to pull the trigger and set off the nine. He turned me into something that I wasn't. I f*cking hated niggas, but look what he's done to us ! Don't take my hand it's time for these b*tches to praise dance. They need the Holyghost cause I'm dipping into the water to release all my hurt. I'm all choke up, trying not cry, but why should I hold it, and why do I have to lie. The stroke that he gave her upon the cheek, he blushed past me like oncoming heat. I can't get mad because theirs another part of me. I am the other woman and I'm running away from defeat.

"Didn't I tell your lul ass to go take off that damn skirt, huh? Do you ever f*cking listen to what I got to say? I'm sick of you disrespecting me. You hard-headed and I'm bout whoop your little ass cause it seem to me that you don't hear sh*t that I have to say. " Quamaine shouted at Mya as I stepped foot into the house. 

" You're not my daddy !  I don't have to listen to what you say." 

"Mya, stop talking like that. Listen to what he says and go take that damn skirt off. It's not the time for y'all to be arguing." I shook my head.

"You not my mama ! Stop trying to take her place. You ain't nothing but a Nakeisha wannabe." Mya snapped back at me. 

I can't even lie and say that what she said didn't hurt because truthfully it did. "Watch yo' f*cking mouth !" I screamed at her, smacking her across the face. She held her cheek and began to cry. Blake stood in the door frame of the kitchen in front of Nakeisha. He cried too, and ran upstairs to his room.

"I hate you Azalea ! I'm going to wear my skirt anyways !"

"Mya, take the skirt off and apologize to your sister-in-law." Nakeisha instructed her. I looked at her like she was crazy. If Mya didn't listen to me then she damn sure wasn't going to listen to her ; at least that's what I thought. 

"I'm sorry." Mya said through gritted teeth. "You're right Nakeisha, leggings will look better." She smiled and headed upstairs.

"She gone make me f*ck her up." Quamaine shook his head, flopping down onto the couch.

I didn't move. I thought that we had a bond, but she listened to another human being. I was pissed off at myself for even placing my hands on her, but the sh*t that came out my mouth had me off the wall. The one thing about kids is that even when you push them away they got a thing for observing what's going on ; kids know about everything, but I ain't want this to be true.

"Mane, I don't think I can do this no more. She out of f*cking control. I don't know what the hell wrong with now a day." He sighed and rubbed his face, "I'm gone give Maxine full custody cause I can't keep trying to stop her from acting out. Everyday it get worser and worser."

"Maybe it's for the best." Nakeisha said, "Azalea, I got everything set up the fashion show can start in about four more days." 

I nodded and walked upstairs to my room without saying a word. I was laying in the bed staring up at my the picture of me and Mya that was placed on my nightstand. Tears ran down my cheek. Who am I?  What the hell have I become? I don't know, but I know that I'm not who I say I am.

I felt soft hands caress my cheek. I looked over my shoulder at my baby boy. He was so cute, and even though he was mad at me, he still had strength to comfort me. I snugged up with Blake. We cried together until we fell asleep.

Sweet Dreams Azalea.

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