Khalilah Yasmin ©

You are responsible for your progress and happiness. No one else is.
People whom claim they’re ‘tired’ of something (circumstance, relationship, location); yet make no efforts to change it, aren’t really tired.

Dear Khalilah,

I’m not an expert on relationships, love, or life; but I do know this; we only live once. And from experience I learned that I may not have been tired of something I claimed I was tired of. I did not change it. I stayed hoping it would change on its own. We as individuals often do not realize how powerful we are in our own lives. Every day is a new beginning. Sure you may not be able to walk out of the job you hate tomorrow. But what’s the point in complaining about the job if you do not intend to look for another or find ways to qualify yourself for the position. Want to be happy? Plan for it. Want to move to another place because where you live is too cold, too hot, too awesome for you? Plan for it. Nothing will happen if you simply sit in place complaining about it. YOU ARE IN CONTROL OF YOUR LIFE AND EVERY DECISION. Wherever you are, whomever you are with, at some point was a decision you said “YES” to.

There was a story someone told me once when I claimed I was tired of something and didn’t change it. I will do my best to recant it. It’s called….
“The Dog and the Nail”.

There was a man named ‘Adam’ walking down a street and approached a house where he saw a man named ‘John’ and his dog sitting on a porch. John’s dog was squirming around on the porch while crying in what seemed like horrendous pain.
1 day passed. Nothing changed. 2 days passed. Still howling. 3 days. 5 days. 1 week. 2 weeks. 1 month. Still howling, with no signs of stopping.
Adam was concerned for the dog so he approached the porch and asked John what was wrong with him and why he was crying out.

“He is sitting on a nail” – John stated.

Adam baffled looked at the dog and said, “Well then why doesn’t he just move?”.

“When it really hurts, and he’s really tired of the nail, he will”

People whom claim they’re ‘tired’ of something (circumstance, relationship, location); yet make no efforts to change it, aren’t really tired.

Tired yet?

“Child’s Play” © Khalilah-Yasmin 2011

http://KhalilahYasmin.com

I want to play with his toys and add myself to his collection,
Alter his erogenous zones; the reaction and stimulation to his erection.
His eyes like the ocean; deep, blue, and wet;
Piercing through my innocence and his I promise to protect.
I’m a flavor he has never had; a tunnel he has never dug,
My imagination foreshadows naked bliss when he pulls me into hug.

I long to make LOVE, he stares in the midst of his crowd,
His voice of me is silent but his eyes on me are loud.
But alas he is forbidden, and my subconscious intent and lust must be hidden.
As I heave for his kiss upon his mouth and his ‘Vein Filled Bliss’.
Fantasizing myself into the depths of his blue ocean and his erection,
Cuming to his memory and careless thoughts without protection.
‘Shakespeare’s Two Headed Beast’- with a tiramisu complexion,
Wondering if he knows I’ve added him to my collection.

Like a child innocently eager to play with every single one of his toys,
Embracing him in fantasy is my reality, though he only likes boys.

“Breathless”

http://KhalilahYasmin.com

©KY2011  BMI

I would rather ASK and know, than Wonder and be restless.

But I could not face myself if you moved on and I knew that I kept this…

…Connection between us, If you were my Mars I’d be your Venus,

Cause I FOUND myself in your inner and outerspace as you looked into mine,

I LOST myself in your eyes but you took my hand and told me I’d be fine.

As if we were lovers in another era in time, you were my Renaissance and I was your Medieval,

Your Music and Art filled my cathedrals, until your sword took my heart refusing retrieval.

But I know you’re not evil, because I felt your soul move its way through mine,

I lost myself in your eyes but you took my hand and told me I’d be fine.

And I am, I just want to know if our fairy tale spell wore off on you early,

Been afraid to ask, look weak by dropping my iron shield or be surly.

As if my heart was a virgin as it met with your eyes and jumped through my chest,

After tonight’s confession perhaps she will rest.

But will I, In this infinite world where I felt I finally had a lover who was a friend,

I’m going to ask you this letter and never ask you again.

Will I hear your voice when your ringer plays, Will I see you on our vacation days?

Will you be the Mars to my Venus, Will you look in my eyes so you can see that I mean this?

You were my Pharaoh and I was your Princess,

another world created the connection between us,

I would rather ask and know, than wonder and be restless,

But I could not face myself or my lungs for you made me Breathless.

“Bass”

© 2011

http://KhalilahYasmin.com/

It was a pleasant surprise when I looked in his eyes; unplanned and unexpected,

As if during his stare and clasp of the strings; we made love; ears unprotected.

Bass; the rhythm you feel deep in your core, falling in sync with your heart and altering its beat,

With my ears I saw him, with my eyes I decided to speak.

Me lost in the crowd yet seeing only TWO instruments on stage;

The one in his grasp and the one I’m sure slayed…

During persuasion by music, finesse, and effortless skill,

I found my motives being shifted without my free will.

As if during his stare and clasp of his strings;

The phallic symbol foreshadowed my moans and my screams.

I long for the beat; my sustenance and my addiction,

The BASS wanted to move me so I give it permission.

“Happily Apathetically Ever After”
Written By Khalilah-Yasmin © 2011

Open my legs to give you the highest form of pleasure found on this planet,
Open my body to allow you to consume it, until we can no longer stand it.

Open my hands to ensure you safe landing
Open my arms to place you in, above, and under my standing.

Apathetically jaded, in the absence of reason,
Emotionally masturbated to keep from joy’s grieving.
Leaving my heart in a place even I cannot find it,
Perhaps this time will keep Satan from attempting to blind it.
I was ready to love you even though I was afraid. I really wish you would have stayed.
You gave love and attention you paid. Forehead kisses and hugs gone away.
But hey, I didn’t have you anyway. In the seventh hour I gave my love to you.
I allowed your wings to pierce through my skin and within my hole you flew.
I was a fool in the seventh hour as I let you place your body inside of mine.
 
The numbing sensation over my whole body ensures this will be my last time.

Open my legs to give you the highest form of pleasure found on this planet,
Open my body to allow you to consume it, until we can no longer stand it.

Open your chest to kiss you on your heart,
Open your brain to place myself in your thought.

The love of family, friends, and strangers, chased now eludes me,
Even those of blood would rather confuse than consume me.

Apathetically jaded, because there’s a hole in my chest cavity where wind now blows,
Opened metaphorically transformed, and now I am CLOSED

“Synchronicity”
http://KhalilahYasmin.com © 2011

Synchronicity is the experience of two or more events that are apparently casually unrelated occurring together in a meaningful manner.

Absence of a physical presence that may not exist,
Absence of the possibility that my forehead you might kiss.

With thy lips, that spoke words to me that you never knew.
Before you I was aware of the birds but unaware that they flew.

Presence of your soul when I know you’re nowhere near.
Presence of your eyes in those of strangers, except the one in the mirror.

I hear her, her eyes reflect a loss of what almost was…
Her delusional memory, the prelude to a dream- the prologue to us.

Since meeting you my heart developed a new rhythm,
A synchronicity that I cannot find, 7,000 miles away I’ve lost my mind.
In a city I have never been but am willing to search until I find you again,
Forcing distractions, sitting still when like a pinwheel I spin.

It’s raining in my heart even if you left your umbrella,
The thunder in my soul shakes the walls of my cerebellum.

Convincing myself of insanity for being sure that you’re the one,
Lies told to ourselves tend to be those that are fun.

Searching for your eyes in the eyes of strangers, except the one in the mirror,
She came when you appeared, I disappeared, I fear her.

Absence of a presence that created a life within,
Absence of my love, absence of a friend.

A synchronicity I cannot find, miles away in a city I’ve never been,
Living for the moments, the dreams, and to see you again.

Presence of your soul when I know you’re nowhere near.
Presence of your eyes in those of strangers, except the one in the mirror.

Inspired by a Psychology Assignment and a dream I had last night…

Stockholm syndrome: 1. An extraordinary phenomenon in which a hostage begins to identify with and grow sympathetic to their captor. 2. Heart stolen willingly

“Stockholm Syndrome”

Khalilah Yasmin ©

http://KhalilahYasmin.com

Forgive me if he turns out to be Satan.

He can have my soul if he asked.

Resistance I reckon; a thing of my past.

Submissive; I have mastered well and become,

Obsessed with his happiness and making him cum.

Fiery passion is obsessed with me.

I; controlled by force that I cannot see.

Forgive me if he turns out to be Satan.

Unspoken I promised that I would die waiting.

On him,

and the return of the butterflies capable of flying through fire,

Carrying a passion I never want fulfilled, I crave to desire.

Him;

and his return, the tease of his selfish kiss,

Sometimes unsure if he even exists.

Or does he live in my imagination,

A psychotic source of demented brain elation.

A willing hostage I have become,

Obsessed with his happiness and making him cum,

to me.

Pretending not to care, yet pining with ache for his embrace,

His cinnamon scent, his angelic face.

I’m not sure if I chose, nor do I remember being taken captive,

Unless an arrow with poison plagued my heart with his acid.

In the instant, he walked into my view,

My blood went warm and my vision was hued.

Perhaps I am sickened, by chance willingly bitten,

Under a holistic spell, virginally smitten.

No weapon in sight, whether secret or blatant,

Forgive me if he turns out to be Satan.