She came all of a sudden
Indian summers and sunsets
Full moons and time consuming-
Love, making, Sex.
She came all of a sudden
Indian summers and sunsets
Full moons and time consuming-
Love, making, Sex.
I humbly and kindly ✨ ask that you listen to the great, Ms. Lauren whilst reading. Or not 😘
She got this Vybe like
Like dred. Locked-
For the cause
she got this Vybe like: Pause
you have beauty shining
A Light that’s Blinding
Dîvine. Perfect timing 🙏
Pounding flesh upon fresh
Darkness and Light
She forgets to be: normal
dolce and gabbana suit lay thrown across this telly floor
wild. she rides me
Heart and Heaven merging
Her liquid treasure
There’s no feeling better
She realizes her Power
And climbs the tower
She grabs onto the walls
As she rises,
My tongue catches her as she falls
Her moaning calls-
Within the depths of my Soul
Become Niagara Falls
Her wet, sticky lips welcome mine
Her light-almost blinding
I Waited here,
For you, I stood
So…I heard you went to the dark side. So, does she have you worshiping the devil.
Don’t start. YOU of all people, please. Dont start that Judge Judy shit.
Besides being this beautiful ass Bruja, she’s fucking amazing. Incredible. A Goddess. She loves me sweetly. & completely.
Yeah it means the Universe to me when a woman, the woman that I am caring for & could possibly be Loving Forever gives a fuck and shows it.
Fuck. Be happy for my ass. She cares, G.
I know that.
But she shows it.
And…I don’t have to guess if I’m on her mind, she tells me! & it’s not 7 or 8 days after we’ve seen each other, either.
That’s not fair! You knew the situation!
Yes, that’s why I chose me over your sexy, beautiful…gorgeous, albeit moody Cancer ♋️ ass.
I accepted that you and I weren’t aligning in the ways we needed to. I had to let go. I had to love me more and know my worthiness of more than a part time love affair. And once I did that…she showed up.
This woman manifested when I was doing my best to not lose hope in Californian women…She reminded me of Love, again G. Not just any Love, but the realest, truest most Divine love.
My heart feels safe with her. I feel like…she wants the best for me. No matter what the fuck she and I are doing or if we were to part ways because our time together was done…
(I Smile from within)
She’s concerned. & asks me how my day is. She sends me amazing books to read. She looks up recipes from back home and calls my mum to make sure she is making dishes that my grandmother used to make, right. The magnitude of care…of her love for me…is immeasurable.
I FEEL her love. I see it…and, her love makes a difference.
Damn! She’s trying to lock your ass down isn’t she?!
It’s not about that, G.
(I shook my head)
Then explain to me what the fuck this (she pointed at the wallpaper of my phones background (which had a picture of me and my Goddess kissing) Is about?!
Love. That’s ALL I ever needed it, wanted it & demand it be about. Fuck your money! Fuck your cars! Fuck how many stocks you have! Your status or clout…nah.
That’s all I give & ask for in return. Of anyone. Reciprocity of Divine love.
I can buy my own shit. Give me the the most unselfish gift you can give another person:
Your Genuine Love.
Your Time. Your Concern. Your Care.
As I give gladly & willingly because she deserves the best fucking Love, just as I do.
&. If you can’t:
Give me nothing at all.
Keep your Power
Hold on to your Peace
My mind fights for Rhyme
As a Synner fights for Time
Righteous appetite for Cali nights
Love potion number 9
Reading the writing
On the wall
& in my phone.
But so much better in person
We slip into each other so easily- like: cursive
A love hangover
She rests her head on my shoulder
Suddenly there is no boulder
Our OUT is much bolder
Into full fledged adults
Dealing with some grown ass shit
& some grown ass emotional shifts
All on the eve
Of the first New Moon.
Fucking Lunar Action.
I paint myself because I am so often alone and because I am the subject I know best … I think that little by little I’ll be able to solve my problems and survive.
The subject that I know best
You know YOU
you won’t know me…
I guess this poem is about you…
Grab the reins. Hold tight.
Am supposed to give you the benefit
that I always get
Although, I forgive I don’t forget.
compassion…i got plenty.
We are so not transparent
& our attraction is bright
The timing tho…
Definitely another story
Ima pretty cool character. But YOU
You cause me to become a lil disheveled
she listened as her eyes glistened
Nah. You know what it is?
You disarm me…
True Love was dead
But I’ve found a Fort
Oh. Found a Fort
I gave her my
What does that mean
What does it?
Knowing the circumstances
Idk. I just felt like she deserved one that came w/o a return to Sender…
I promise to listen
Not fuck off with your heart
As most pre love post lovers do
Everything you are
One you are…
From your Power
To my Peace
To the Strength in my back
That makes you
Weak in the knees
The sight of you
Weak in the knees
Although my heart is power walking steps
That led me
Or a bridge…
That’s what Sade said:
He built…a bridge to your heart. All the way…
& so I know I haven’t come all this way
You and that face
That Love that you so easily give away
Even when briefly
Give me your mouth so my tongue can connect with yours indiscreetly
& that will be the day
I might just say
If you want a piece of paper
Sign your name as it becomes mine
I will give you kisses until there is no time
And love like there is no time
& I will. I do.
Like our Love isn’t punishable by Crime.
in some places it is.
& i will embrace you
Give you someone to lean to
Become your rock
As you continue this journey in this lifetime as a fallen angel
Developing our negatives
Through our Dark
Push to Start…
You. Make Love.
Take my badge
I will gladly give you my heart
Cuz I know,
You are deserving of Everything.
I wanna hold your hand and kiss your fears behind the walls of years you wondered if anyone else was out there.
Someone. A being. Who would get you. Love you and let you. Be.
Exist as you choose to Be.
Without expecting miracles from an overused and at times abused, wishing well.
Cuz I know damn well:
We are all Human. Mostly.
Demons. Soul cooking. In Hells Kitchen.
I guess that’s it…
Haven’t quite written anything to the tune of this yet. At least not at ths moment. Lemme get in my zone real quick…
You came out to your family?
I wanted to share this with others.
Here’s a story I just read via my feed on FB. I guess FB is good for something sometimes…aside from the chisme and folks who dont really give a shit about your well being, but wanna just keep up with your moves…O_o 🙄
Just Because He Breathes: Learning to Truly Love Our Gay Son
Linda Robertson Jul 01, 2013
On the night of Nov. 20, 2001, a conversation held over Instant Messenger changed our lives forever.
Our 12-year-old son messaged me in my office from the computer in his bedroom.
Ryan says: can i tell u something
Mom says: Yes I am listening
Ryan says: well i don’t know how to say this really but, well……, i can’t keep lying to you about myself. I have been hiding this for too long and i sorta have to tell u now. By now u probably have an idea of what i am about to say.
Ryan says: I am gay Ryan says: i can’t believe i just told you
Mom says: Are you joking?
Ryan says: no
Ryan says: i thought you would understand because of uncle don
Mom says: of course I would
Mom says: but what makes you think you are?
Ryan says: i know i am
Ryan says: i don’t like hannah
Ryan says: it’s just a cover-up
Mom says: but that doesn’t make you gay…
Ryan says: i know
Ryan says: but u don’t understand
Ryan says: i am gay
Mom says: tell me more
Ryan says: it’s just the way i am and it’s something i know
Ryan says: u r not a lesbian and u know that. it is the same thing
Mom says: what do you mean?
Ryan says: i am just gay
Ryan says: i am that
Mom says: I love you no matter what
Ryan says: i am white not black
Ryan says: i know
Ryan says: i am a boy not a girl
Ryan says: i am attracted to boys not girls
Ryan says: u know that about yourself and i know this
Mom says: what about what God thinks about acting on these desires?
Ryan says: i know
Mom says: thank you for telling me
Ryan says: and i am very confused about that right now
Mom says: I love you more for being honest
Ryan says: i know
Ryan says: thanx
We were completely shocked. Not that we didn’t know and love gay people; my only brother had come out to us several years before, and we adored him. But Ryan? He was unafraid of anything, tough as nails and all boy. We had not seen this coming, and the emotion that overwhelmed us, kept us awake at night and, sadly, influenced all our reactions over the next six years was fear.
We said all the things that we thought loving Christian parents who believed the Bible, the Word of God, should say:
We love you. We will always love you. And this is hard. Really hard. But we know what God says about this, so you are going to have to make some really difficult choices.
We love you. We couldn’t love you more. But there are other men who have faced this same struggle, and God has worked in them to change their desires. We’ll get you their books; you can listen to their testimonies. And we will trust God with this.
We love you. We are so glad you are our son. But you are young, and your sexual orientation is still developing. The feelings you’ve had for other guys don’t make you gay. So please don’t tell anyone that you are gay. You don’t know who you are yet. Your identity is not that you are gay; it is that you are a child of God.
We love you. Nothing will change that. But if you are going to follow Jesus, holiness is your only option. You are going to have to choose to follow Jesus, no matter what. And since you know what the Bible says, and since you want to follow God, embracing your sexuality is not an option.
We thought we understood the magnitude of the sacrifice that we — and God — were asking for. And this sacrifice, we knew, would lead to an abundant life, perfect peace and eternal rewards. Ryan had always felt intensely drawn to spiritual things; He desired to please God above all else. So, for the first six years, he tried to choose Jesus. Like so many others before him, he pleaded with God to help him be attracted to girls. He memorized Scripture, met with his youth pastor weekly, enthusiastically participated in all the church youth group events and Bible Studies and got baptized. He read all the books that claimed to know where his gay feelings came from, dove into counseling to further discover the whys of his unwanted attraction to other guys, worked through painful conflict resolution with my husband and me and built strong friendships with other guys — straight guys — just like the reparative therapy experts advised. He even came out to his entire youth group, giving his testimony of how God had rescued him from the traps of the enemy, and sharing, by memory, verse after verse that God had used to draw Ryan to Him.
But nothing changed. God didn’t answer his prayer, or ours, though we were all believing with faith that the God of the Universe, the God for whom nothing is impossible, could easily make Ryan straight. But He did not.
Though our hearts may have been good (we truly thought what we were doing was loving), we did not even give Ryan a chance to wrestle with God, to figure out what he believed God was telling him through scripture about his sexuality. We had believed firmly in giving each of our four children the space to question Christianity, to decide for themselves if they wanted to follow Jesus, to truly own their own faith. But we were too afraid to give Ryan that room when it came to his sexuality, for fear that he’d make the wrong choice.
Basically, we told our son that he had to choose between Jesus and his sexuality. We forced him to make a choice between God and being a sexual person. Choosing God, practically, meant living a lifetime condemned to being alone. He would never have the chance to fall in love, have his first kiss, hold hands, share intimacy and companionship or experience romance.
And so, just before his 18th birthday, Ryan, depressed, suicidal, disillusioned and convinced that he would never be able to be loved by God, made a new choice. He decided to throw out his Bible and his faith at the same time and try searching for what he desperately wanted — peace — another way. And the way he chose to try first was drugs.
We had unintentionally taught Ryan to hate his sexuality. And since sexuality cannot be separated from the self, we had taught Ryan to hate himself. So as he began to use drugs, he did so with a recklessness and a lack of caution for his own safety that was alarming to everyone who knew him.
Suddenly our fear of Ryan someday having a boyfriend (a possibility that honestly terrified me) seemed trivial in contrast to our fear of Ryan’s death, especially in light of his recent rejection of Christianity and his mounting anger at God.
Ryan started with weed and beer, but in six short months was using cocaine, crack and heroin. He was hooked from the beginning, and his self-loathing and rage at God only fueled his addiction. Shortly thereafter, we lost contact with him. For the next year and a half, we didn’t know where he was or even if he was dead or alive. And during that horrific time, God had our full attention. We stopped praying for Ryan to become straight. We started praying for him to know that God loved him. We stopped praying for him to never have a boyfriend. We started praying that someday we might actually get to know his boyfriend. We even stopped praying for him to come home to us; we only wanted him to come home to God.
By the time our son called us, after 18 long months of silence, God had completely changed our perspective. Because Ryan had done some pretty terrible things while using drugs, the first thing he asked me was this:
Do you think you can ever forgive me? (I told him of course, he was already forgiven. He had always been forgiven.)
Do you think you could ever love me again? (I told him that we had never stopped loving him, not for one second. We loved him then more than we had ever loved him.)
Do you think you could ever love me with a boyfriend? (Crying, I told him that we could love him with 15 boyfriends. We just wanted him back in our lives. We just wanted to have a relationship with him again… and with his boyfriend.)
And a new journey was begun, one of healing, restoration, open communication and grace. Lots of grace. And God was present every step of the way, leading and guiding us, gently reminding us simply to love our son and leave the rest up to Him.
Over the next 10 months, we learned to truly love our son. Period. No buts. No conditions. Just because he breathes. We learned to love whomever our son loved. And it was easy. What I had been so afraid of became a blessing. The journey wasn’t without mistakes, but we had grace for each other, and the language of apology and forgiveness became a natural part of our relationship. As our son pursued recovery from drug and alcohol addiction, we pursued him. God taught us how to love him, to rejoice over him, to be proud of the man he was becoming. We were all healing, and most importantly, Ryan began to think that if we could forgive him and love him, then maybe God could, too.
And then Ryan made the classic mistake of a recovering addict: He got back together with his old friends, his using friends. And one evening that was supposed to simply be a night at the movies turned out to be the first time he had shot up in 10 months — and the last time. Ryan died on July 16, 2009. And we lost the ability to love our gay son, because we no longer had a gay son. What we had wished for, prayed for, hoped for — that we would not have a gay son — came true. But not at all in the way we had envisioned.
Now, when I think back on the fear that governed all my reactions during those first six years after Ryan told us he was gay, I cringe as I realize how foolish I was. I was afraid of all the wrong things. And I grieve, not only for my oldest son, whom I will miss every day for the rest of my life, but for the mistakes I made. I grieve for what could have been, had we been walking by faith instead of by fear. Now, whenever Rob and I join our gay friends for an evening, I think about how much I would love to be visiting with Ryan and his partner over dinner. But instead, we visit Ryan’s gravestone. We celebrate anniversaries: the would-have-been birthdays and the unforgettable day of his death. We wear orange, his color. We hoard memories: pictures, clothing he wore, handwritten notes, lists of things he loved, tokens of his passions, recollections of the funny songs he invented, his Curious George and baseball blankey, anything, really, that reminds us of our beautiful boy, for that is all we have left, and there will be no new memories. We rejoice in our adult children, and in our growing family as they marry, but we ache for the one of our “gang of four” who is missing. We mark life by the days B.C. (before coma) and A.D. (after death), because we are different people now; our life was irrevocably changed in a million ways by his death. We treasure friendships with others who “get it” because they, too, have lost a child.
We weep. We seek Heaven for grace and mercy and redemption as we try not to get better but to be better. And we pray that God can somehow use our story to help other parents learn to truly love their children. Just because they breathe.
On June 20, 2013, at the invitation of Alan Chambers, my husband Rob and I shared an extended, unedited version of our story at the final Exodus International conference in Irvine, Calif.:
In the presentation, Rob read a letter that he’d recently written to Ryan, which you can read here. We also shared a slideshow of photos of Ryan through the years:
This piece, which was originally written for Biola Queer Underground in December 2012, was posted on Facebook on Jan. 14, 2013, which would have been Ryan’s 24th birthday. It is now posted, along with other blog posts, at JustBecauseHeBreathes.com.