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“Bella, this is not about money. This is about principle. Never let people walk all over you, especially about money. You don’t gotta worry about that, though. You got ya guard dog right here to make sure niggas always come correct.”
natalia gordon liked this
“Ginobili Martin Sanders! Motherfucka, I know you see me!”
not ginobli lmaooo.
his tiny dreads dangling,
a black man name ginobli is wild lol.
People fucking suck. I learned that the hard way too many times for my liking.
Byron.
these niggas have ass names,
“I don’t know what kind of fucked up definition of love you have, but what you gave me wasn’t love. Julian loves me. Brielle loves me. You? You love yourself. That’s fine. Just do that shit somewhere not involving me.”
A speck expanded with every smile she gave me. Smiles that sheltered the pain of the song of her cries when she closed her bedroom door at night. It was no longer a speck. It was now a long list of disappointments with my name attached. Anyone telling me she loved me wouldn’t get that the words would never stick because I knew her love, and it was limited.
“I don’t know shit! Stop being a little bitch and get it together! I did not raise you that way. Did I?!”
GOT DAMN, let the man a damn break.
“Dub? What the fuck does that mean? Why do you children make up words and use them like they’re real? The New York public school system is just fuckin’ sad. It failed all you lil’ niggas,”
“Me and this body gotta talk,” I whispered with a laugh, grabbing her ass.
hmm what do we have here? a fuck nigga
She wanted me to love her, and I just wanted to fuck her.
“First, you don’t even hit me up for weeks. Now, we’re using condoms like I’m some random bitch?”
you know he fucking other women. be glad he used a condom.
I had to stop running. From everything.
“You gotta be one of the most beautiful sights to grace my eyes in this lifetime, so I definitely gotta take pretty back.” “Smooth.”
Bouncy brown curls and a body full of curves caught my attention and pushed my questions aside.
Focus, my guy
A part of me was sick that I could even be capable of doing something like this, but the other part of me…. The other part of me loved this shit to the core. There wasn’t a need for control here. No need for skill. Only pure, raw anger. I didn’t have to tame the beast in me because this was his time to shine. This was when I lived up to the nickname given to me. Boxing was for me.
After was the hard part. Post-murder clarity always hit really fucking different.
But I couldn’t help but feel something about the fact that the caged bird opened its mouth entirely too wide after gloating about keeping it shut.
this feels like foreshadowing...
“You can’t even hear how stupid you sound. Family doesn’t let family fuck up their lives. Ron will let you fuck up yours. I won’t.”
“I just want you to be happy, Bel. There’s so much I’ve never been able to give you. Now that I have the means, I want to do that.”
It was a childlike happiness that hurt my heart and lit it at the same time because I knew he never had it. He’d never been a kid before. He spent his life being an adult at all the times the adults in our lives refused to.
Because of me, he suffered from dreams deferred. Dreams he thought I wasn’t privy to.
Glimpses of the sweet guy I once knew would peek through sometimes, but the guy who wanted everyone to be a small dot in his big world often replaced it.
“We were, now we’re not. My friends don’t hurt me, and I don’t let people who do get a chance to do it again.”
Once I worked my charm over a candlelit dinner, the falling would happen, and most importantly, the falling into my bed would happen.
he's such a fuck boy
