I loved someone once when I was 12 years of age.
We went through the best and the worst of times for 6 years of my life.
What I thought was a guarantee was actually never meant to be.
I gave my all like a slave working for freedom after picking mattress loads of cotton.
Instead of freeing me, they whipped my love out of my body, and took off with a high priced light skin. I had to watch my lover begin life on the other side.
I thought I loved someone once when I was 17,18 years of age.
They tried to play me like a game console . I allowed them to make me appear to be some jenny from the block type of girl. Knowing damn well my mama raised me better than that.
I loved someone once when I was 19,20 years of age.
They were a blast from my past that never sparked back then, but I always felt like I loved them before I was able to love them.
Our love took flight and it was a blissful mix of cultural blend.
We took flight to the east leaving everything and one I knew down south. They kept all my belongings and shipped me back down south as if I was bad merchandise.
I loved someone when I was 22,23 years of age.
They came in like a thief in the night.
They made me laugh, cry, and felt worthy of being loved and committed finally in my lifetime.
I never loved the others truly is what I found out. I was drugged on the idea of love.
This one was the one that so many tried to warn me about when they use to say this won’t be your last heartbreak.
This one was different. This one was worthy of being praised. This one gave me more than what I could ask for .
And then this one; this one said it was all a lie and couldn’t wait to say goodbye.
All these people, and all my prime aged years was a lesson that I need to love myself, instead of asking others to love me for me.-HonestlyFrank