Pain is all that I have,
Pain, like the rain that falls openly from the stars and burns my skin.
Pain bottled up that hides me withn a cold heart as black as my soul, burning in a fire that is beyond anyone's control.
Half living, hardly loving as I try to hide
the pain and darkness that is held deep inside

I have been writing poetry recently and i just figured out that it amkes you feel better!
even if I look at what I wrote later and dont like it I still feel a lot less weighted when i put my feelings out on paper. I have been trying to get over my ex even though at the moment I'm losing that battle, putting my anger on paper feels so good. (better than putting your fist through a wall, trust me).

I took the tickle flavor test and I'm a "mocha", and it's so true

I use quotation marks because I am actually smart, just not smart enough to do the work. I wish it were hard so I'd at least have that as an excuse but that's not the case, I can't seem to focus. I don't know why either, my mind just drifts off sometimes or my mind goes on pause or something. I'm so tired of everyone talking about my potential, or what I could do if I tried. Don't you see me trying? After the lectures and the crying it's always the same, "Alexis is lazy, she just cares about herself".

This comes from Trini Tomboy on blackplanet.com, some girls seem to be a liitle confused about the categorial "dyke".

I wrote this for one of my girls, because she was having problems understanding studs/butches/doms. I received a lot of good responses from all the women that she fowarded it to...so blackplanet (especially my rainbow family), I thought I would share it with you.

Here is my breakdown of the psychology of a dyke..we`ll call it Dyke 101.