Writers Corner

    “Disguised as God”

    A9AAD962-8F4D-4A5B-80BD-D94011A348BD

    ​I realized that Adam was playing a wicked game with me from a simple picture on Instagram taken way before our demise. When I saw his face in my phone, I felt like I temporarily lost consciousness and the air that should have otherwise been released from my lungs was blocked by something so evil that if I didn’t pull it together I would have suffocated myself. How the hell did he take this picture with her? Then I assumed he was furloughed, which made me all the more angry because he didn’t tell me. It took several glances to see if that was truly him. Yet the dates coincided with the period where he was still incarcerated and I wondered why I never saw this picture before. You see I tried to stay off the bitch’s page but of course she purposedly unblocked me so I could see him and her hugged up on Prophet’s couch. I recognized every detail of the room, even the photograph of his mother on the corner end table. Was this my punishment for sleeping with Prophet. He is like crack, especially in bed, got me up all hours; even last night. Now I am delusional and alone looking at this shit here.  

    Pent had on the wedding band I gave him but on the wrong finger and it looked like he had another ring right beside the one I gave him.  I recognized the phone she was holding was the one I was paying for, for Heaven yet it was the comments in the caption under the picture that changed me that day. 

    He wrote, “We have a love hate relationship. She hates my guts but I love hers.”

    Wow, nigga. Wow scum of the earth. Wow devil, Lucifer, Satan. Wow, wow, wow. I am convinced an evil baby mama trumps any wife or queen. Just days before this pic was taken I know I paid the attorney $2500 to check his docket. Just days before this picture, I sent this ol’ skeezing, hoein’ baby mama $500 to keep her mother fuckin lights on but you want to play me publically and at Prophets house of all places. I know that was the point where I lost my mind. I know that’s where I snapped. I knew on that day I reached a point where I was no longer good for anyone.  And from that pic I died to the fantasy of ever being married. I died to the possibility that we were ever going to be a family. I died to reason. I died to love. But my foolish anger didn’t go to him. Such buffoonery.  I foolishly blamed Tamar, who bore him a child, who for all these years was the one he truly loved. And in my sick, deranged, damaged head, I knew I had to hurt her. I had to hurt her really bad because that was probably the only way to hurt him. 


    My Boring Ass Life
    “Dearest Husband” - July
     

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    Sunday, 25 August 2019
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