Surviving

 It’s been 3 years since that day I threw up outside the studio sick from Felisha’s undercooked porkchop. I had been on a mission that day two friends in a day. Why am I calling my rapist a friend it wasn’t a very beneficial relationship for me. In fact he’s the only one benefiting. I wonder what remains of my pork chunks on pleasant st in Dorchester. A place I’ll never forget. It was my first time going to a garage studio. The recording booth was my dream. Being in there just pouring my heart out to my fans. Except that night i didn’t get to sing he snatched me out the booth faster than you can say macaroni pie. I guess his friends would never hear my voice or my talents. Neither would my fans. I guess it was two risky considering it took him two years to bring me here. I knew i didn’t want to listen to any more military stories I was ready to tell my own stories. He was extremely critical of e Everything i recorded telling me it’s foolishness or not good enough. I wasted hours in front of the microphone. Just to be verbally abused by him. I learned to record quick so he wouldn’t get to do what he really wanted to do. Hard to focus when you got a hard dick In Front of you. He was definitely not in control here. I could be free with my lyrics but I was only there for three seconds before he told me get out. I was so embarrassed instead he had me sit in the DJ booth with him watching him adjust the knobs on the turntable set up thingy. I still don’t know the proper terminology that’s how new I am to music. 

That day I recorded “Move Away” I was enraged when I heard him come on the microphone. I used it to fuel my music even managed to tell him to suck my dick. but he’ll probably never hear my tunes. Thank god.

Words could not describe how annoyed I was with this guy. We were actively in court with a restraining order against each other there no way I could even say his name if I wanted to. He sued me for mentioning him on facebook. So now I’ve taken the drama to a more personal space. If you want to get away with a crime hide it in a book. Nobody will read it anyway. Most diabolical ideas drift amongst bookshelves never being fully evaluated. To forever live amongst the whispers of other books. What if books spoke. What would your book say about you. I hope my book whispers truth, at parts that are true and I pray grant gods me clarity on anything I thought ill of. Now that im  living in my own space I got my own 4 walls to stare at me all night and day, im not haunted by the feeling it feels welcoming to be missed by my walls they just seem to be happier when im around.