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She couldn’t tell him that her bed held her captive like a strait jacket sometimes, or that at least once a week she cried so hard that her eyes swelled and face went raw like an allergic reaction to shellfish, so she called out.
“Just a family full of hardheaded ass girls. Hate it here.”
“I’m the type he never told you about. The one that comes in and fucks up your life in the best way possible. The one that’s probably not good for yo ass, yet nothing but good shit comes out of fucking with him.”
“Why are you being so nice to me, Pierre? I don’t get it.” “What’s there to get? You’re my pretty bird, and I’m helping you strengthen those wings.”
Since I can’t give you back your old life, I gotta make you wanna be here with us. I gotta make you want to live in the moment, Bird. You promised to let me try, right?”
“I give you butterflies?” “Fuck nah! Real niggas don’t get butterflies. We get—” “The feels,”
“Money in their palm changes the subject, right?”
You better check the facts before stepping on toes that stand on all ten for your ass whenever you can’t.
“Ahh, shoot! We got action!” The barber clapped with a laugh. “He’s feeling himself.” “I knew it was coming. No man can resist the feeling of a fresh cut,”
“Oh, shit! My bookie butt is growing up.”
“Okay. You like Takis?” She shifted the topic, hoping like hell Pierre took the bait. He peeped game but went with it so she wouldn’t shut down on him. “Hell, nah. Put those childish ass chips back and get some hot fries like a real nigga. If you pick up the wrong kind, I’m leaving yo ass right in this store.”
