P I E C E S

The pieces that were broken, never returned the way they were.

Everytime I look into his eyes, all I can see, is her.

Those pieces that came back to me, were different, more complex. . .

Did I mention I'm much stronger now?

The best pieces NEVER left !

**Anything that you lose, was never meant to be yours.**--MJ

Love Me Better

*walks up to podium and taps microphone* Eh hem, eh hem. Im a thug, who stopped believing in love. No if, ands, or buts about it. *slaps microphone off of podium and walks away*

Ha. I bet you believed me. The truth of the matter is, in my heart of hearts, I adore it and wish it was something that existed. Never bitter, so Im going to give you tips on how you can make love better:

Here are the words:

1. "Hey baby, have a good day today."

2. "You've crossed my mind alot today, let me thank you for that."

3. "How was your day?" (make sure you listen to the response!)

4. "You seem down, is there anything I can do to change that?" (mean what you say)

5. "You are appreciated."

Now for the actions:

6. Surprise your partner with dinner and a movie. Get the pillows and blankets ready.

7. MEN-Hold her face when you kiss. Seal it with a kiss to her forehead

8. WOMEN-Massage his shoulders and whisper "You are perfect for me" in his ear.

9. Play games together. Laughter is key!

10. Do something you dont like, but your partner loves.

Most Important: SEXUALITY

11. Initiate the loving - let your partner see that you want them.

12. Tell them how to please you, and ask how to please them. (sex talk is fun!)

13. Stay at first base - kissing is GREAT for your health, and your heart.

14. Rub your partner from head to toe, because 9 times out of 10, its been a LONG DAY!

BONUS***

15. Tell your partner to get in bed, kiss from HEAD TO TOE (paying attention to special areas), massage, talk to, nibble on, and endulge in your partners whole body WITHOUT SEX. When finished (and that is not until you are SURE they are completely satisfied), lay down and look at your mate and say "Thank you for letting me LOVE YOU BETTER!"

THE END

Expired Honey

*hands up* Okay I know, it's been a while. Dont shoot! What can I say? I been tryna take over the world! For the newbies, let me introduce myself. My name is JUZLIK3MUZIK. Just. Like. Music. I type as I speak, slang and all. I have little action moves in all my posts (denoted by **), and I say whatever my little heart desires. This post is a lighthearted one so read on..

I had a nice little convo with a friend of mine, whom I will be dedicating this post to, and the convo went into the "I used to be" section. "I used to be a romantic" he says, "I used to be a poet." That led me to wonder, how many other ppl have gone down that stanky ass "I used to be" road? I remember days like that, where I used to get up with one main goal: make him happy. Oddly enough, I felt fulfilled knowing that every smile that day was because of me. Now, my main goal is: make ME happy. Not a bad move, but I can control my own smiles whether Im happy or not*thumbs down*. Ive been learning that throughout life we go thru stages and once we hit that "I used to be" stage, the honey has expired. I dont care WHAT yall say, Im not tasting no damn expired honey (neither should you) so I suggest we all take a second to go from the "I used to be" to "I am." Whats life worth, if we cant stick a finger in and get a taste?? Haha. This post is dedicated to Honey himself..;-*

The Backwords Letter

Sincerely to return to you, MYC

Im a blogger so Im writing and I hope you understand that as much as I can hold you, Id rather hold MY hand. This letter isnt the end of us, more like an interlude-gimme a second Ill be back and Ill jump back in love with you. However now Ive realized Ive loved you more than me, as much as I adore you Love, I fell deep in love with me. I lost sleep for you, eyes leaked for you, and crossed the seas for you. I believed in you, always dreamed of you, and couldn't breathe without you. Ive loved you since forever and couldnt see myself without you.

Dear Love,

Now read it from bottom to top. Haha.

S C R E A M

Let me get straight to it. Im human right? A complex being with emotions, thoughts, and mannerisms. Well if so, then keep reading. If not, this blog is NOT for you. You ever get stuck being the nice guy? Bottling emotions because its the time is not "right" at this moment? Well, shit..I do. This blog is me letting it out. This blog is my scream. At home, I stand out like a sore thumb. Not overly friendly, not overly open, not overly closed. Just a minor to all extremes. I come from a family of extremists, by the way. Musically, I need to be open, honest, vulnerable, and transparent. YIKES. In relationships, I often hold back. Yea, Im the internalizer. Whatever it takes to make it work equates to "your right, Im wrong." Yall seem to be here for me so Im opening up. On a whole, I AM TIRED! Heres where it gets confusing---->if I open up and let errybody know when Im unhappy, uncomfortable, or pissed then Im a bitch. If I hold it in, Im stuck in this situation, cyber screaming to all that wanna read. Wellllllllllll this is my scream. Can you hear me? I bet you can.

The Balancing Act

*clears throat* Eh hem! Wassup my lovely readers? Oh how Ive missed you!. The last time we coinhabited this page was when I was on my Mycki Allen Po move. Right now, I need to vent. I mean, I NEED TO VENT! Here's the issue: In the real world, to maintain happily (especially now), you need to focus, work a good job constantly, and watch your surroundings. To chase your dream, you need to be free of almost all ties, have a good amount of funds, and have some strong ass legs because dreams move fast as fuck! So, okay I dig the working a good job thing. Cool. I dig the you need money to make music thing. Cool again. But um, WHERE IS THE FLIPPING BALANCE?!? When you work as much as I do, you have to pay bills..and you BET NOT have no backed up bills or just forget it. Anyway, when you work constantly, you have plenty money but no time. So, your dreams go ----->that way. Or when you not working, the struggling artist thing is admirable but pro bono work is fake. No studio time, no transportation to the studio, no food, nothing but time. As a proud, hard working woman first, Im doing pretty damn good. As an artist, I will sing from now till next NEVER but I have NO TIME TO DO ANYTHING! Help. The artist in me is suffering, struggling, tired, caged in and bored. The picture up there is spinning dishes. Pay too much attention to one plate and the other one is going DOWN. Picture both plates full and then you will feel me. This blog is dedicated to my homie QRock. Why? Because he knows the artist, the person, and needed to meet me, the blogger. Happy Gobble Gobble folks!

The Other Side of the Door FINAL

"Okay, whew! Im finally here." In large green letters, "567 Lincoln Place" stood out against the white awning that covered the building. Tyra entered Neelan's building without thinking twice. "Im allowed to do something crazy once in my life right?" It was as if someone answered her question with a "YES!!," because she continued walking. Tyra walked right passed the guard at the door without an issue. It seemed as if he sensed something up her sleeve because he smirked as she headed to the elevator. Tyra was in such a rush that as she exited the elevator at the penthouse level, she neglected to realize "Pertison Presidential Suite" printed on the wall to the left of the elevator doors. Instead, she held her head straight and went right. Neelan opened the door and tried to act surprised. "Hiiiiii, um, Mrs. Morgan." Yes, he had to ACT surprised. Lets not forget he was watching her. Just then, it was if something came over Tyra. She kissed him deeply, sensuously. She pushed him into the apartment, and slammed the door. "Wow. What do I owe the pleasure of...mmm...this...mmm...huh?" Neelan was realizing that although he was watching Tyra during her private moments, she was NOT who he thought she was. He reached to unbutton her trenchcoat, and she slapped his hand "Not yet, Mr. Pertison." He dismissed the fact that she knew his name to good memory. He reached over for the gun as he kissed her, under the impression that as it got hot and heavy, she would lose sense of time and space. He pulled the gun on her effortlessly as he kissed her. She was none the wiser as he put it close enough to the back of her head, to end her existence as he had done so many others. He pulled the trigger. She giggled. "Its not loaded. I emptied the clip while you were with Aubrey last night." BOOM rang out as she shot him and watched his body crumble off the bed. Ironically, Neelan was paying so much attention to what he was doing, he didnt realize the FBI chain hanging from her neck, right where the first button of her trench coat was. You see, this whole time, Alyssa Greavans, whom we all knew as Tyra Morgan, was an undercover agent out for the capture of Neelan Pertison. He killed her sister when she was 16, and since then, all she did was hunt him down. This is what she carried with her always, his face, his technique, his green eyes. Yes, that was always with her. As she left that day however, she left Neelan Pertison, her pain, and Tyra Morgan on the other side of the door.