Heartbreak Poems

  • Heartbreak Poems,  Love Poems,  Mom Poems,  Poems,  Writings

    As God Intends

    A man would think that by hurting me in the present that he was going to satisfy himself or me in the future with the changed human I became. That’s not true. I cannot begin to tell you the fate that gives me. Even after I please myself, I cry uncontrollably sometimes. Grieving the woman I was at some point in life. Sitting under the covers in shame. For no reason. Can I even look at myself the same. It’s as if sometimes a hand will be reaching out for my love and I cannot reciprocate the way they want. Even trying not to cry as I type this because of how strong I have had to build myself to be. How I have had to force myself not to cry when my heart doesn’t need it or want it. And neither does my head. Neurologically or imposing otherwise. Because of what you have done. What you have said. What you have wanted instead of my own wellness. How I have made myself feel as a result of the change. I would become a different person for the satisfaction of you. I would sit and be disregardful to myself and not think about how I felt. Pushing it away. I got tired of that. Tired of coming home with no answers as to why I felt alone inside a relationship or out. I would then bet on fate. I would hope that it would come around. And when it didn’t, I would cry even more. It wasn’t that I wanted to be held all the time. Fear of you not satisfying my comfort would make me approach opening up with trepidation. I would change. And then look at myself and be unhappy. I would recognize a new me after all of the complaints about who I am now that you have changed me. Who I am now that you are seemingly happy with the changes in me. Who I was before you decided to change me for yourself. And who I could have been without you.

    It’s like he says in his mind to himself:

    “I can do good for someone else, but I can’t be any good for you.” That’s all I hear. That’s all I see. That’s all I feel. I was not raised to respect anything more than honesty. And knowing that secrets often come out in the sheets, what was I up against? Truth or lies? Assets or liabilities? It was never that I reached out to a ton of people when I had gotten hit by the car in Fall 2023 and asked for help or a place to sleep. It was that I knew in my heart the types of friendships and relationships I had dealt with in the past, and that they wouldn’t really ask me to stay. They would just play as they had before. Most of them at least. I needed to breath. And they were suffocating me. Lies. I had a dream one night that a friend had gone and gotten married to what I thought of as the most beautiful person inside and out that I had ever seen or encountered. Throwing it in my face or at least trying to. But I didn’t imagine my life in longevity with her as a result of it. And I had come to terms with that. And that was taken from me. Marriage was on the table. GONE. Fidelity was on the table. GONE. Family was on the table. GONE. And it was kept from me because of the fear of “How I would respond or feel,” But then I realized they didn’t know my strength. I could just wake up and realize it was a dream. Forget if it was real. Don’t even engage in the fantasy is how I started to feel and treat myself. I told myself “Even if this is just a dream, I don’t ever want to be around her again.” What if I told you that there were more than one of those dreams? More than one of those people in the dream doing the same things over and over to hurt me. Trying aspects. And angles. Just to please their disease of the mind. I am sure, what you’re selling as a fake friendship will be of value to someone else. But I never made that feeling real until I dreamt it again. They cannot say that it hurts when your intent was to hurt me in the dream. My guard up in reality. I wanted the same respect I had bestowed on them in real life. And knowing I would not get it is fine with me. I have no expectations.

    In being all honest and open with myself, what could she have said in the dream other than “I am sorry I fucked someone you were interested in?”

    My response: “What else is new. You’re no different than most friends with devious selfish desires. Be at peace with my absence in your life is all I truly ask. And kindly. It hurts when I think about what you have done. I don’t mind being around you when the universe makes that happen. Not someone playing like they’re God. But I had to get out of my soul how you made me feel. How I knew the true testament was if I was bleeding, you would be nowhere to be found. And that’s fine. God is always around. You were never more concerned than me or my God when it came to securing my family, finding shelter or a husband. And that’s not to blame on you because life happens. I just have to choose a healthy trajectory. There’s a reason for the dream, and it’s likely concerning secrets you will never unfold with me.” It’s like this: you would be the type of friend immense pride in having relations, let alone a relationship with that man I crushed on or adored in front of a wall I painted art on (and there are many); versus wanting the ultimate desire to be seeing me married in front of my own mural. Because the marriage is what I would have been coming to you whining about as a woman. Not being able to find love. You would use that as a weak point and find solace in taking that from me and being as devious as possible. And I don’t hold resentment for the friendship or what it could have been. I just have emptiness.

    I think the most encountering challenge is for someone to not recognize how wholesome I am. And for that I have no patience and truly apologize if that hurts you. But knowing that you can bare your soul to me and trust me makes me know what I am worth to you; in my own eyes. But I don’t necessarily recognize what I am worth to you in your eyes because you refuse to break down barriers and boundaries. It is not my innate refusal to break them down, it is an old challenged oligarchy. This is why. An oligarchy is defined as a government for the few. What if me, you and what is ‘ours’ is considered ‘the few’? And within that government we need alignment, representation, respect, honor, and honesty. But I am not getting that. It feels like I am battling a different subset in which you refuse to see my respect for a relationship and the depth I require in said relationship. Otherwise, I feel no alignment. And we have no government to supercede ourselves. We are not working together in a sense. You sit on your side of the bed and I sit on mine. You don’t see it as simple as I do. Pull the covers off and look in my face. But it’s an excuse to you, that you sympathize with. You don’t see it as a venture for you to save my soul from myself. And by saving my soul from myself, I mean crying for 12 hours because I am frustrated at how little you truly understand me or how little you want to give effort to that understanding.

    Mesmerized by the health of going with the wave. I know the motivation to be better and more productive should be there. What if it was a jump start on eternity that I feel is most productive? You might feel like a jumpstart on tonight and nothing else is productive enough. And so, I cry more. There is no depth. No 20,000 leagues like I dreamed. And I was taught to dream big, if not in reality, then in fantasy. Taking forgiveness as the true battle of the war with myself. Not that I don’t want to be forgiving or forgiven; but I worry about not being taken in general.

    Sit on the toilet and take a shit while I sing. That is love to me. You be the DJ. And yet, I cry when that’s never completed. My grandmother used to say “I don’t know how you feel unless you tell me.” But I was always expecting someone else to come in (not necessarily in her place) and know how I feel without me telling them. My kids do. But it was me realizing that you don’t depend on my blood supply or my safety or well-being in the same way that they do or my grandmother did. My strength can be something very foreign to you. And yet fragility is a word you refuse to associate with me. It wasn’t me forgetting I am the fragile twin, it was me not wanting to read into that. Wanting to always stay strong.

    Strength can come in numbers. And I sometimes view it as minutes. Minutes and moments in time that provide clarity and recollection of who I can be with love around me. To know that my mental illness with depression and anxiety and ptsd is not a reason to pull myself further from people. But the grief eats at my soul. Grieving who I was before all of experiences in life that made more emotional than ever before. I might walk different, talk different; seem stronger. But still just as fragile, if not more and entirely more emotional. A leaf falling from a tree could make me cry. It makes me wonderous at times and wandering at others. For fear I need a wander guard in real life because you might not want me. And maybe I will misread your need for space, and leave entirely. But as a man is that fair to you? It’s not, and so I cry even more. Because by that time, I have already figured out I locked myself in handcuffs and can’t really move just yet. Where is the key someone might ask? The key is time. Inquisitions. Questions. Mannerisms. Acts of kindness, love. Endearing concerns for my wellbeing and that of my family. I guess these are things I would not want to bypass and ignore. So I pace on the depth of my sadness at times. I am that someone and someone has to right? I often wonder if I am too harsh with my boundaries. Too impatient with myself. I just want my home back. And right now my home in my heart is shattered. I thought I could have protected my home from the tornado inside my mind when I broke down on March 18 2025. And never forgetting what my heart felt like at that time. It wasn’t the first time I had broken down and cried like that. I thought it was maybe because I am so close in proximity to where I grew up and I miss my grandmother’s presence often when I need to be cared for. She would sing to me “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine.”

    The house that is my heart was torn and breaking down. But I could feel the windows shattering. Exposed, I felt. Even in a room by myself and homeless as I am right now, I could feel the roof caving in, in my heart. Stay strong I whispered to myself. The front door to my heart padlocked and it was a whirlwind inside my heart, mind and soul. Stay strong for your children. Eventually a landlord will get back to you about a house. Everything else will fall into place. As God intends.

    Momma changes, but my love and motivation and strength as a mother never will.

    I disregard the ignorance of others when it comes to my blog. I can reupload posts from 2008. But I don’t need to prove anything to you when you’re insecure enough to question dates of a blog that I build.

    XOXO,

    El’Aundra

  • Heartbreak Poems,  Mom Poems,  Poems,  Writings

    Merry Go Round

    Whatever you hate. Whoever you hate is all on you. Own up to that.

    I begin to think most times it goes back to how I was raised. How much of what I have been through and taught applies to my day-to-day real life. Knowing everything that I have been through as a black woman, I am not interested in arguing over the ownership of my DNA let alone eggs/embryos against a white person who hates who and what I am, so they want it for themselves. That’s something I had thought about. A black man wants to disrespect me and treat me like shit because he is threatened by my strength. He chooses to go have a child with another woman. Maybe she is white. Treats her better. And if or when that doesn’t work out maybe he wants to see if he can come back to me for another chance. But the game was already pondered. You knew what you said to me and about me and who I am from the jump. So, for you to sit back and expect to add more adversity to my life just to “prove how strong I am” is using me as a toy. Something the entire post encompasses. Someone or a collective group of people thinking you’re a toy until you leave them alone to play with or for their own team. I am not on your team. Nor do I want to.

    Sometimes I think to myself

    “If I could make a race about what type of person that is in my own mind, I would make it called ‘selfish'” That can encompass any underlying race such as Black, White or Asian- Pacific. It goes by your mentality. Your morale. Your desire to judge others. To not give respect. Living by that principle that you “Give respect to those who give it to you the way you want it served.” As a child, I was taught that some people take from you. And the lesson you show them is by calling on God, not them. Don’t call them back to explain why they took from you in the first place. They just should have known better. The fact that they didn’t initially just proves who they are as a person and how hurtful they can be. And just continue to take from you without giving. Narcissistic qualities. Then you must wonder what your peace really is. When blacks have taken from you and whites as well. I go on to find people who aren’t on this earth to take from me. Whether it be that they are black OR white. I call it a selfish race and throw those people that have tarnished me into a pot alone on their own. You can feel the way you do about life because people have taken things from you; of course. But sitting on a high pedestal somewhere is someone with a stick pointing at you telling you that you’re wrong for feeling that way. And they want to make you pay for feeling a way (defensively) about how THEY HAVE TREATED YOU WHEN IT WAS POOR TREATMENT. I never really cared how those types of people felt about my writings. My poetry. My truth. I can continue to show you how much I don’t care about concepts that don’t encompass empathy. All you’re doing is proving why my sense of adequacy for myself is not worth you enjoying. I can enjoy myself without you, you know!?

    There is someone out there listening even if it isn’t you. There is a woman in the middle of a breakup right now that needs this strength in words. A man too. A transgender. A collective group of people that want better for themselves, others and the world in general. In essence, If I don’t want to hear your album, I won’t buy it. I won’t listen to it. One hit wonder or not; there is no argument. No conversation needed. And no, I am not offended. I expel my feelings for free. Why would I care what someone else that hates that they cannot be honest with themselves, more aware of themselves, and ultimately hates themselves thinks or feels about how or what I write? Maybe if it’s not meant for you, you will objectively find something or someone that is.

    9 albums doesn’t equal a heart. I could argue that so much it’s not even funny. I assume the conversation would go something like this

    “You ain’t nothing but a one hit wonder.”

    My response: “I might be. But I have heart. And had heart long before the one hit. That being said, because of your ego; you feel like 9 albums makes you possess a bigger/greater advantage?! I argue your heart rightfully in defense. And you’re proving what my heart is worth versus yours. Even with that one hit, I can have more heart and strength. You’re insecure about even after 9 albums and that’s why you’re talking to me like that with ‘my one hit wonder’. Albeit I have that one hit, I don’t want you to have me. Reason being, I put more energy into valuing the valor of someone standing on a pedestal because of their accomplishments threatened by someone who has not accomplished enough in life because most people are vile, self-centered, and ignorant such as yourself. How the fuck are you going to argue with a woman like me that’s been as abused as much I have (especially by people like you) and still stands against you fighting? You’re weak. And I still battle your insecurities. So, since I was raised to understand that my goal is not to make you feel embellished in self-hate; I won’t take your shine. Show the world WHAT and WHO you are. I am not your backup singer, dancer or hype man; remember that. You set the precedence of hatred first by coming at me with that statement. Now live in your assumptions and take care of yourself. Better than you care for other people is all I can hope for from you.”

    That’s crazy right? It’s almost as crazy as a man arguing with you about your value as his woman. He says this to you:

    “You aren’t shit. Just a bitch. A worthless stripper. A whore.” [I want you to read this post here titled ‘What It Seems’ for strength when you are being abused by a man or woman and the above is all they water you down to.]

    And yet he continues to make you feel insecure and worthless. Not only by action; but by influence. He will bring you around other women or bring other women around you that are only there to rock your insecurities, if you have any. Because he is threatened, and so are they. He wants to argue with you. And control everything that you are. Which is disgusting in its own right isn’t it? Sometimes, there are people that are so insecure they will sit there and think that they are rocking your own insecurities or making you uncomfortable just by playing a game on who you are. What you are. What you stand for. What you have endured in life. How you overcome adversity. Sometimes because they know if the fight was turned around, they would not be able to make it through like you. They cannot do what you do or be who you are. And depending on the strength that you hold within yourself; how do you show someone that you care? How do you want someone to treat you if they claim that they care about you. What do you do to care? Forgive? Do you care if this man talks to you like this, and then he allows his desperation to bleed into your own accomplishments and dreams so that you have his women he adores more than you act like they are intimidating you? They follow you to work. They follow you on social media and stalk with their bullshit. He doesn’t know who you are at the core any more than the woman that is acting on his behalf does. She might only be acting that way because in her eyes he adores her, not you. And they are sick enough to enjoy abusing you. And that is a vantage point for them. Not only vanity points for them (because they are truly self-absorbed and don’t care how you feel) but a point at which you should be concerned for your own safety and wellbeing.

    When you want something, it’s called an appetite. You have an appetite for grilled cheese. You want a steak sandwich. It’s what you are used to. What you are hungry for. And some of us are hungry for respect. And can smell that someone or something is not going to satiate that hunger. It’s called an ‘appetite’ for a reason. I can’t stand a man that sits in life so mad, and insecure that he doesn’t understand I have a choice. We all do. Suffering is a choice, always remember that. Not only to be strong for myself, but aware of myself. And my appetite. Which doesn’t go by what you want. So, if I want what you want, it’s mutual. Be thankful. If I don’t, let it go. Because at the end of the day your restriction on my freedom is only going to piss me off. And I won’t let someone make me feel like shit for my choices. A lot of time the choices that you make are because someone else thought they could play with the ability of you to make your own choice or what choices you have in general. I was 18 years old and had a wonderful interracial experience with friends. And for a black man to sit in front of me and get an attitude about me being with another woman for you or in front of you. You, as the insecure man that has a fucking issue will sit here and not commit to me. Hold that over my head, making me feel like shit and expect me to have an appetite for the race you idolize. Which isn’t me. If you idolize me, I will come first. If you respect me, you will be concerned about how I feel as well as everyone else involved. And although God says you should have no other idols before me, a synonym we could use is still adoration. When it comes to opening up a relationship or intimate connection with someone; I look at how that person has treated me and valued me throughout the previous periods in time when our interaction was 1 on 1. And if I felt like you didn’t care, don’t be mad. Because I am not. I am just ready to move on. As soon as I submit to your disrespect, the woman will sit there because you have disrespected me around her; and treat me like shit. Then it’s 2 on 1. And because you want to satisfy your own selfish desires, not adore me, and make her feel superior it will only heighten the toxicity. Honesty and respect is the only way I operate in these circumstances. My exes cannot talk to me about threesomes with women, because you were often disrespectful and wanted to exploit me to have those women anyways. Not being sure who you’re trying to make feel good (whether it be yourself or them), it upheaved my desire to be around you. And I removed myself because of your lack of respect.

    Owning up to the fact that I have decided to not have certain things in life because of the lack of respect a man has for me. And that will essentially bleed into everything that I love. I cannot have a marriage by a man who hates the very words I write. I don’t want you to think a family would be any different. You aren’t trying to have a ‘family’ if you’re not trying to know the person you claim to want to marry or have children with INSIDE AND OUT. Knowing within yourself that to be true will help you. Denying that fact only hurts you.

    A lot of times, a man will sit and talking about his previous escapades. I tell him to keep it to himself if he’s trying to make me feel worse about myself. Essentially a lot of times men will cheat on you and go to another woman (if you’re black, she could be white and wanting him to ‘enslave’ her or call her the N word) which can lead to your level of disgust in that man, let alone that woman if you let it. because he comes home and treats you like shit. He will honor that woman, and disregard you. But call her the same name that her mind or insecurites allow her to request. I personally don’t care. I will gladly give you to that woman, so you can help her figure out who she is at heart because not only do I know who I am; you are threatened by that. Or else you wouldn’t do that in the first place; treating me like shit as a black woman. As a woman that’s mixed with Mali, Irish, German and Nigerian; I don’t really care to request that you call me any other name than mine. And should you; I will sooner forget who you are as a person. I was taught to remove things in your life that don’t help you succeed. And that wouldn’t be helping me succeed… reminiscing on a circumstance that didn’t exist in my mind the way it did in yours. Your feelings are different, as are mine. Not mutual. You will want to control me and I won’t give you the power to. So you can essentially screw whatever woman you want and call her whatever you want. She knows her birthname. Enough said. You can’t be someone else. And why would you want to? I don’t, I am fully fine with being me. So I would not answer to someone calling me Pam any more than I would to someone rolling their eyes as they drive by. Same rhetoric. You assume I would be happy with who you are and how you treat me. An assumption. I was taught you make an ASS out of U and ME when you assume. Separate the word. Mnemonics help with that clarification. You know your motives. And acting like you don’t care; blaming other people and even me but holding no blame for that woman means you only had ill intentions to hurt in the first place. And I can hurt with silence. I call it the forgotten response.

    Exhibit A:

    A man wants you to have a threesome with him and another woman. She talks all the time about black women like she hates them. Jealous of them. And the black woman might not give a fuck that she’s being talked about. She might be curious about the encounter. It’s a setup from the jump. The plan between them two is to cause and argument with you (mind you, they were already an item before they invited you in; maybe unbeknownst to you). The white girl feels threatened. But not threatened enough to NOT talk bad about you with the black man. She goes in like you did her wrong and you never met her. She’s doing it because wants him and essentially a) wants to make sure you don’t take him from her and b) to make you feel how she wants you to feel. She hates herself. She wants you to take the blame for that. He hates you just as much as she does. So they plan to cause an argument and when it gets out of hand they might harm or call the police. A game. This why I say PAY ATTENTION TO HOW PEOPLE TALK ABOUT YOU.

    If it’s the opposite; you will know.

    Adoration is by definition “deep love and respect”

    Respect is defined as “a feeling of deep admiration for someone or something elicited by their abilities, qualities, or achievements”

    Love is defined as “an intense feeling of deep affection.”

    If you love someone, will you go through their things without their permission? Lie about how you actually treated them, when you know it wasn’t any good? Will you expose them? I would think not. If you respect them, will you show them how much you care by how you act or redeem yourself for acting in a malicious way? If you adore them, how do you show it? Ignore their need for necessities? Prevent them from growing and succeeding?

    And vice versa. If the woman has been messing with your man and wants to then act like she hasn’t; she’s out. Not only is she a problem, she’s not a variable. Excuse yourself from that drama. You deserve better. I just cannot be bothered with anything that isn’t straightforward right now would be my response. There is more to be concerned about than a generalization. And a lot of times; the woman would be talking about a generalization. That I feel the way I do because she thinks I hate women, I am angry, I hate men. When it’s simply that I can guarantee my respect has boundaries by having a boundary against you and your disrespect. What resonates when you treat me a way I would not treat someone else or even myself? It’s me thinking to myself, if I cared about someone and the way they feel would I treat them like this? And if you are a part of the “nobody cares” rhetoric then I want nothing more than to leave you alone to yourself to figure out how that is going to work for you.

    I look at life in so many different ways. What you’re attracted to and makes you happy might not make me happy. It might not make me happy to be as vile and mean as you are. You cannot be insulted if I don’t want you in my presence. Either it be because of your disrespect or your level of secrecy in life. I am such a straightforward person that sometimes it’s thought to be unfair if I expect someone else to be that way with me. And so, I don’t hold you to that expectation. I tell you that you are able to be free from my expectations and find whatever peace you can find in controlling someone else’s response to you. I don’t have the patience to sit with you and see you laugh or smile at me because you see me getting upset at the fact you are holding a secret, a lie. And I want the truth. So, I choose to not be around you because it upsets me. And I want to be merry. I don’t want to keep going on this merry go round. Whether it be alone or with you. I can ride the wave alone. Keep telling yourself that. I CAN RIDE THE WAVE ALONE. There would be no reason to choose suffering as a choice when you know what game you are trying to play with my freedom of choice let alone peace and respect.

    A lot of times people will choose to be “nice” after they have seen resistance to their bullshit to begin with. And by that time, I am already unavailable to you; for you to fuck over again with your fake niceness. If you were really thinking about being nice you would think about what you do before you do it and what you say before you say it. You would say to yourself “Maybe I should think this over.” And I am not projecting on you that you have to blame yourself, just forgive yourself. But understand the creed I live by is thinking about what I do and say before I do and say it. Even more in depth than most people. It might make you uncomfortable. But I cannot be held responsible for you feeling a type of way because you didn’t think about how I would feel before you decided to disrespect me. Sometimes someone is just looking for someone to blame for how they feel. Or blame someone for standing up to their bullshit. If you cheat on me, I can’t wait to NOT call you back. To not have that same relationship with you. Strictly platonic for your benefit. Less of mine. My benefit would be loving myself more than you could or did.

    Be at peace. I hope you find your peace.

    XOXO,

    El’Aundra

  • Heartbreak Poems,  Poems,  Writings

    Walk Different

    Get to wearing a waist trainer for 6 years and see if you don’t walk different.

    Get to be 321 pounds. Lose 170 pounds and see if you don’t walk different.

    Get beat by a man or treated like shit and see if you don’t walk different.

    Get hit by a car head on and see if you don’t walk different.

    Get doubted consistently in life and see if you don’t walk different.

    Get treated like you don’t matter by people who claim to love you and see if you don’t walk different.

    Get fired from your job for no reason and see if you don’t walk different.

    Get talked about like all you are is a stripper and see if you don’t walk different.

    You’re human. And so am I.

  • Heartbreak Poems,  Love Poems,  Poems,  Writings

    For you I will

    For you I will change the way I love.

    For you I will change the way I feel.

    Sometimes feeling like a fantasy.

    A dream that has yet to become real.

    For you I will think twice.

    For you I will write stories.

    Sometimes feeling like a fantasy.

    A dream that has yet to become real.

    For you I will take a chance.

    For you I will take a shot at love.

    Sometimes feeling like a fantasy.

    A dream that has yet to become real.

    For you I will let my guard down.

    For you I will submit.

    Sometimes like a fantasy.

    A dream that has yet to become real.

    For you I will open myself up.

    For you I will heal my hurt.

    Sometimes like a fantasy.

    A dream that has yet to become real.

    For you I will be here for a lifetime.

    For you I will give thanks and kneel.

    Sometimes like a fantasy.

    A dream that has yet to become real.

    January 2025 I had just written the title. Scrolling through the drafts; I felt the energy to write. I hope you enjoy. 11:20-11:28am I wrote this. With a dream of a chance on my heart.

    XOXO, El’Aundra

  • Heartbreak Poems,  Poems,  Writings

    Lost In Translation

    ⏰ I can’t sleep. So into my words we go…
    🍔 Hungry as a motherfucker.
    📺 Watching Johnny O’Clock [1947] on the tv. And Ancient Engineering S01:E08 on my phone.

    ☕️ Dreaming of how to calm down after an entire pot of coffee providing energy. As I would tell you, I know coffee like most people don’t. Love it immensely.

    ⛪️ I am moved by today’s devotional.

    🧼 Deep cleaned the bathroom shower and cleaned my room. Organized it. Blessing it. Now for pickle chips and sour cream likely. I’m always hungry. 🧼

    🖋️ The Tattoos I did healed thankfully. Wonderful memories along the journey.. Hyped up on coffee.

    🖍️ My mind is coloring another vision of a land bank home I would rehabilitate. [See previous post on the first one] 🩷😝

    🙏 Prayers for all.

    Without getting too far into why some things are easier to explain in life than others… why some things will piss you right the fuck off. And other times you’ll ride the ways of ‘pisstivity’ 

    Self-Reflection: Where the fuck am I going sometimes I ask myself. Or the Lord in prayer. Why do I constantly keep feeling lost in translation? 

    Photo Opp Metaphor: The boot is going to hold the fridge door shut in case it opens again. In my perspective, I will take the seal tomorrow and clean that for better suction.  

    I was working at Amazon when I was hit by the car in 2023. Something telling me to put on my boots. As I stood there by my locker and changed into my Birkenstocks. I left my Nike lime green Bionic sneakers in my locker at Liverpool Amazon. I guess I forgot them there and then in a sense couldn’t bear coming back to retrieve them until I felt better I guess. Or had a hand to hold for the embarrassment I would have as I would walk and empty my locker anyhow…

    Rightfully injuries would have been very mf different if I had worn my boots. Just more detailed thoughts I have never explained to anyone… so in writing I like to be. Talking less. Writing more. Mime vibes. 🤐

    And in contrast I had to wear boots to work… but I won’t get rid of the sandals. I will make a shadow box eventually for them. I remember wanting to join to learn AWS. Out of my respect for SAP. Things happen. More lost in translation here..

    XOXO, El’Aundra

  • Heartbreak Poems,  Love Poems,  Mom Poems,  Poems,  Writings

    What Is Your Purpose?

    Oftentimes people don’t ask themselves what their purpose in someone else’s life is. My purpose being more light work related than yours sometimes. I still come and leave in as much peace as possible. Never to return to what didn’t inspire me before. I never had to ask myself who a best friend was or what it entailed. It didn’t entail vengeance for me. But for some, of course it would. And whatever it picked up along the way that had the same unfamiliar uncomfortable qualities was a lost cause to it’s succubus energy. I had not paid attention to the eye rolls in public while I was writing. The female friends who had so willingly gone after men that I had adorned once, thinking I would suddenly want them back. Not realizing that even the smallest parts of me was not willing to circumference their insecurities about my craft enough to bow to them before I bow to God and pray for them. That being the ultimate truth. You need prayer and my absence from your life. In remembrance we can coexist until you feel it necessary that I am one of the people you desire to be completely honest with. Suffering is a choice. Your choice to make someone else suffer by hating their way of creatively expressing themselves, in turn makes you and others around you suffer. My inspiration to write does not come from the suffering of others. That’s the difference.

  • Heartbreak Poems,  Writings

    You Cannot Grow With Everyone

    Go, as you wish most times is what people would sit and tell you repeatedly. I stay trying to perfect a routine of ambiguous efforts to adjust the way I have been living in the past to something current and concurrent with the time in which I live at the present moment. Albeit in your mind, a place different than mine; my efforts to contain my dignity is daunting. Some things in the most recent past being ashamed of people having less time than I needed to speak my truth.

    Not adhering to your standards of arguments and justifications of where I am in a present moment, I do believe people ask for what they need when they want it. To which request we should listen. With there being no excuse for not growing ourselves. It’s seeming as common sense when you think about it. I cannot say where I am coming from at all times without having a story to why I may be here in the first place? Is it of my control, or others. Speaking in tongues even the most distant would not care to understand. I get sick of circling and sick of being sick in the miles per hour my mind thinks about doing things in a different way, when I am supposed to be searching for a sense of peace. Truth in peace at best. Tired of people taking that from you. It’s a badge of honor to be able to withstand the judgement of someone else when they have not alternatively been through what you have been through and cannot react to things in the same way quite possibly. I often look down asking myself why don’t they just keep their hands to themselves. Mouth. Bad aura. Bringing only the good around someone should bring something worth growth but I toss that in my head that you cannot grow with everyone.

    XOXO, El’Aundra

  • Heartbreak Poems,  Love Poems,  Poems

    Cut and Dry

    Like butter his skin.

    Was softer than it seemed.

    My love for you.

    Was deeper than the seas.

    Like frosting to a cake.

    He was sweeter than my dreams.

    My need for him.

    Was stronger than iron cleaves.

    Like wind to a storm.

    I was safe with him.

    My heart for his.

    Was the easiest man to please.

    Like flower to the soil.

    I will grow from him.

    My life with his.

    Was the dream that brought me to my knees.

    XOXO, El’Aundra

  • Heartbreak Poems,  Love Poems,  Mom Poems,  Poems

    Listen to my voice

    I think sometimes it’s a threatening voice.

    Billowing of sorts.

    Sometimes there is a tone of discomfort.

    A tone of unhappiness.

    A tone of stress.

    A tone.

    And you hear it.

    I do something at that time.

    Which in time could hurt.

    Although you may feel it.

    What does it take for a sense of peace to work.

    I would have sung a tune in front of you.

    If you were musical.

    Enough for you to receive.

    The truth being you hate it when I sing.

    Which is hard for people to believe.

    You pile with people who feel the same.

    Not asking for more and more.

    Hoping that when you silence my voice.

    It will even up the score.

    I gave into these problems.

    And issues you have.

    Knowing that if you loved my voice.

    Just like Young Jeezy

    You would’ve wanted to go half.

    Half on whatever it took,

    To make me into a whole

    Lying to yourself

    So Santa brings you coal.

    In terms of regret

    Of which you should not feel

    There were secrets between us

    That’s only being real

    XOXO, El’Aundra

    Disclosure: Writing is a form of art to me. Poetry in a sense. And sometimes a more definitive type in itself. That being said, I am a huge fan of Miguel Ruiz’s principle “Don’t take anything personal.” These writings are something I have enveloped myself in since a child. Words have been a part of my life since a child. And as I got older, I appreciated my craft for what it was without giving too much attention to negative scrutiny.

  • Heartbreak Poems,  Love Poems,  Poems

    Leave That Girl


    I love landscaping. Always an inspiration…

    Leave that girl that leaves you empty.

    Come here to be with me.

    Lay here connecting the dots.

    Reading all of my intoxicating energy.

    Take me home with you my chocolate love.

    Passing signs on the route to your house.

    Make me a spiked hot cocoa in a campers’ mug.

    I promise I’m humble, you don’t have to take me out.

    I want to stay here with you forever.

    I promise I won’t want to leave.

    I want you to give me more children.

    Marry me and bring me to my knees.

    Understand I like to work dear love.

    I do not want to lay around.

    I won’t have you dealing with my madness.

    However crazy it may eventually sound.

    I need an everlasting love in my life.

    Arms around my sweet-smelling neck.

    Holding me and giving me comfort.

    Whenever I feel so very unbearably upset.

    Long arduous days, dark silent nights.

    And intimate rose scented afternoons.

    The longing I have in my heart to love you.

    Could envelop more than just rooms.

    It could captivate hearts and make them swell.

    Feeling the Nigerian rhythm in my body.

    Giving me ginger no doubt you know as well.

    The way you sway has me walking like a zombie.

    Music grabs the element.

    The atmospheric melody.

    Taken into a cosmic dreamland.

    Shall you walk with me?

    I want to take you on a journey.

    I want to be the one.

    To bear you kings a queens.

    Because I know you will never desert me.

  • Heartbreak Poems,  Love Poems,  Mom Poems,  Poems,  Writings

    The Very Peace You Seek

    Crazy to see the audacity.

    To disrespect your desire.

    To have involvement.

    In your child’s life unaffected.

    And not want one part of intimacy.

    With anyone else.

    Until you have wholesome attributes.

    Of peace.

    Because of that very ability.

    To turn and flip angles.

    Disturbs the very peace you seek.

    To have.

    It’s that fear.

    Of letting guards down.

  • Heartbreak Poems,  Love Poems,  Poems,  Writings

    Let me tell you

    Can I tell you how beautiful I already am. How beautiful I want to be. Can I also tell you what I’m running from? I’m running from a world that’s evil. That world was my past.

    I always felt beauty. I always relished in my way to captivate an audience. To take people by storm and win. That’s the goal. But the right way. The demonic tense always told me that the demon was at me from where I was coming from. It was someone close to me. So I started thinking that I’m losing this person. He would tell me that my mother is evil. And I was like what do you mean. My mother is passed away and my mom is alive. And I didn’t support the connotation. I knew me as feeling a confident woman. A beautiful woman. A concept of comfortable sorts. As I didn’t want him portraying me as something different. He broke me baby. So hard. And they’re more but I can’t tell you. What I can tell you is this.

    I sat down on the couch. He had texted me asking me to come over to his condo. He was not the demonic presence. But something felt uncomfortable about being there. He said something about having a million dollar idea. And I was confused at the time. But I was thinking to myself I’m worth so much more than what my circumstances are. And so I went to sleep that night in his bed. And he was so disrespectful with his mannerisms. I’m sleeping next to you and you hit me in the head with your arm half asleep over my head like three times. I have to inch closer to the edge of the bed. I didn’t understand this. He just wanted me to please him. Didn’t want to please me the way I wanted to be please. Only using me for what he needed at the time. It was awful. I set my alarm for my Uber for early in the morning. I had to walk to work. I was working a job cleaning apartments. And as I walked around I thought what million dollar idea is he talking about? Because when I asked him he said nothing about it. Ignored my question.

    So then I thought about my current circumstance. I thought about everything I was going through. I was going to work at a job where I was cleaning apartments. I had just left a relationship where a man desires me to literally be something I am not. Someone I am not. He wants me to be filmed all the time but not in the sense of what I am comfortable with… consenting and being paid. So therefore I thought to myself I wonder if he would ever try to tape me going through what I’m going through…

    Then I thought to myself I wonder if this would be a good million-dollar idea for someone who hates me… make one of the most beautiful talented women I know look broke. Make fun of her being broke. And then I just went I work. I went to work on myself. And when I saw Luther Vandross on Instagram with his weight loss I was enamored. I had lost 150 pounds. And I don’t remember being congratulated and appreciated for so much in life. Like if you found money on the ground, if because you know I’m broke and want to monetize my social media; why would you offer 1/3 of what you found? I was offended. So I said no. I’ll manifest my own money. I don’t want it. You found $60 and want to give me $20. That’s not good enough so I’ll manifest my own. You found it. Keep it yourself. A man appreciates what he’s greatly sacrificed for. I am sacrificing quite a lot to come onto these social media sites with everything I have had to hold in for years. I can’t wait for more and more love around me.

  • Heartbreak Poems,  Love Poems,  Poems

    Evil Motives

    And if you’re never going.

    To be as honest as me.

    The woman you’re standing.

    In front of.

    Isn’t worth marrying.

    I told you how honest I was.

    And you didn’t respect it.

    So,as a man.

    Raising children.

    You’re telling me you want.

    To live your life with a dishonest woman?

    I get turned on by how good I am.

    I don’t need to whisper how evil I am

    Because I’m not being evil

    So,in fact if what turns you on.

    Are evil motives.

    No wonder why.

    I would rather be celibate.

    And stay tight.

  • Heartbreak Poems,  Love Poems,  Poems

    You cannot

    You can’t make someone do anything.

    I can’t make someone tell me the truth.

    I can only ask for it.

    I can’t blame someone.

    For what’s happened to me in life.

    There’s not enough mistakes in life.

    To equate to the emptiness and loneliness.

    You feel for a lifetime when you’re ignored.

    Shamed.

    Ridiculed.

    If God told me that I needed to pay.

    And my pastor told me.

    To come forward with my trauma.

    I’m trying to figure out why deny someone.

    The very truth that sets them free?

    Because you want to keep me bounded.

  • Heartbreak Poems,  Love Poems,  Poems

    508: The Writer’s Curve

    It was the absence of love in the first place.

    A lie that you told me there was no race.

    No race for your heart.

    No race for your soul.

    Walking around lost.

    Nobody that I deemed my whole.

    All I wanted was a family to fall in love with.

    A place for me to call home.

    I give win to the abstract.

    A lean to the depth.

    And so under that bush across from Upstate Farms,

    On the ground May 2023 I wept.

    I wept for being lonely & pregnant.

    With a man who didn’t want me.

    I wept for being broken.

    By those who didn’t call me.

    Didn’t call me love.

    Didn’t call me peace.

    Didn’t call me angel face.

    Feeling like I was beneath.

    I couldn’t find my footing.

    So I lost my ground.

    And I sat there waiting for so long.

    A love never found.

    I laid on the ground.

    Wishing I had someone to call.

    Wishing there was a love.

    For in which I would fall.

    Desperate for deliverance.

    For someone to answer at all.

    So I gave up to the wind.

    This was my doing.

    My head against the wall.

    Fate wins.

  • Heartbreak Poems,  Love Poems,  Poems

    He sat next to her

    He sat next to her.

    Thinking that because she’s been through this trauma.

    In life.

    She might not really be able to open up.

    To him.

    And he was fine with her opening her heart.

    When she could.

    Never bothering her.

    To let him know everything.

    And she didn’t.

    She didn’t tell him the times.

    She couldn’t fight,

    She didn’t tell him.

    About her childhood.

    He didn’t ask.

    And so she sat there.

    Staring at the screen.

    Thinking.

    “I’ve been through assaults.”

    “I just don’t want to tell him.”

    “He said it would ruin his image of me.”

    “I’ve never had help.”

    But the woman that he was referring to.

    Had been through counseling as a child.

    12 years.

    He was shaming other women.

    But didn’t want to shame her.

    Because she initially lied.

    He was so inflamed with anger.

    He went to his phone.

    To text a friend.

    She stops him.

    And tells him the truth.

    But she also tells him.

    That there’s nothing to be afraid of.

    She’s here for a lesson.

    There was never a reason.

    To treat a child like that.

    And I got help when I was younger.

    Because I used to cry.

    All the time.

    At home and at the school.

    As children, she told him.

    “There were so many people.”

    “That didn’t forgive themselves.”

    That “They kept doing things to hurt other people.”

    And “In order to get rid of the hurt she had to tell the truth.”

  • Heartbreak Poems,  Love Poems,  Poems

    I Lost You Poem

    You have no idea how I feel about you

    I walk the streets and smell you in the air

    You live here. You were born here.

    The trees here smelled you before I did.

    And they carry your scent.

    I cannot breathe 1440 minutes.

    Without thinking of you. Wanting you.

    But I am sharing you. I’ve never had you to myself.

    Oh but I’ve wanted to. So badly in fact.

    Older than an artifact we are.

    But you don’t even know me when.

    We aren’t in the same car.

    I loved from near. I loved by far.

    I loved by hotel. I loved by home.

    I loved by car. I loved by park.

    I loved in the street. I loved in the bar.

    Do you not remember?

    Have things changed? Who cut the trees down.

    I can’t smell you now. I lost you.

    So I cleansed myself. Angrily, I hid as I do.

    In how I felt. How I feel. How I will always feel.

    And I took it out on you.

    Because I want you.

    We are adults now.

    And this is not your fault.

    We got caught.

    We got lost.

    In blurred lines.

    In a decade of time.

  • Heartbreak Poems,  Love Poems,  Poems,  Writings

    I Believe

    I believe in the power of transparency. I truly do. In every facet of my life, I like to be as transparent as possible to forge a connection that resonates. I am all about resonating with someone. I want to know everything about you. It fascinates me. I am enamored. But just as I want to know everything about someone; I want them to know everything about me. I know me best and I am getting to know more ABOUT ME. But one thing that will never change is that I know my relationships must be authentic. I cannot function in a masked state. I will not. I do not function well as a girlfriend, mother, employee, confidante, colleague, acquaintance or anything else if I do not feel like I am open, transparent and myself with or around you. If I don’t have that feeling, you don’t have me. You create that feeling for me by not only allowing me to be open with you but being open to receiving all of me. Otherwise, I won’t be able to be anything for you. I do not need to be open to secure your opinion. it doesn’t matter unless I have determined otherwise. I have been in relationships and connections that failed for different reasons; in some, they knew everything about me and those were the healthiest and best ones. Whereas the others didn’t know everything about me and the relationships were toxic and eventually failed. I am deeper than any shallow man can ever imagine. My heart is bigger than any heartless person can covet. I think of myself as being so beautifully humble that a harmful narcissistic person would only try and bring me down. I know who I am and where I stand with myself. So not everyone can be on board with how I am. And that’s fine. I truly wish you the best. If compromise isn’t your cup of tea I can’t be bothered. I don’t shut things and people out of my life that are able and interested in seeing me for who I am; as well as interested in growing together. But I will know if you’re not in it for me. By how you treat me, talk to me, talk about me; etc. And if I tell you that you’re hurting me, if you continue it’s up to me to allow it or leave. And it’s up to you to look at yourself and continue as if nothing is the matter or change and compromise.

  • Heartbreak Poems,  Love Poems,  Poems

    The Let Down Poem

    I wish I could say I knew what to tell my daughter.

    When she asks what real love is.

    Mommy doesn’t know.

    She’s never really had it.

    But inside I know I would feel the pain.

    In my chest.

    Having to think of all the heartbreak.

    Naive scenarios, strange dates, failed relationships etc.

    And to think the carousel’s still turning.

    Love will come at the next stop.

    I keep telling myself.

    I tell her “Love is everywhere.”

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