I continue to walk this long path full of shattered glass and enlarged flames. Allowing the pain to sweep around my toes, ankles, slender calves, thighs, pretty buttocks, hips, large abdomen, wide chest, wide shoulders up and around to the tip of my punctured nose. This pain is like no other and there is no true source yet physiological symptoms are always knocking at the door.

Tears blinded the road as I smoothly accomplished each twist and swerve home. I reflect on the one I suppose could have filled the empty pleasure cove. He stood tall and proud smugly glanced over me. That kind of glance people have when they come across the stench of cows among the countryside. The kind of glance given to CNAs from their medical colleagues. The glance that is the backbone of their false sense of superiority and you amount to nothing. He then walks briskly toward his apartment repeating twice not interested one more glance, one more “not interested”, and slams door shut. He does not forget to lock the many locks on the other side. Confined in his greatness.

Could he have been the one? Or was it the first one I allowed to touch me? Or the one I allowed myself to be vulnerable with? Or was it the one I took on a date who continued to flirt with others in front of me? Or the one constantly monitoring my every mood wanting nothing more than a puppet? Or the one selling dope at the corner only to be left dead shot in the head? Or the one I chased knowing he loved being chased but had little interest in being prized? Or the one night stands from drunken nights? Or the friend I thought I could trust? Or the first “with benefits”? Or the one on the DL wanting no one to know our “little secret”? Or the matches I found on tinder that rarely reply? Or the others I’ve allowed to see me, feel me, smell me and taste me? So many more unanswered questions arise with these few.

I continue to walk this path along the flames. I learned that the path to happiness to finding love one is bound to be burned along the way. The scars left behind are reminders, lessons, and they make us who we are. That’s all for now it’s late and I’m tired.


I want to feel the warmth of his body against mine.

I want to feel the prickly chin gently pressed against my cheek.

I want to be held and cradled like a child nestling with it’s mother.

I want to be adorn like the bold Mona Lisa and her smile.

I want to feel the scraggly hairs enmeshed with mine.

I want to fold in together like playing cards or the pieces of origami.

I want to feel thousand little deaths in one night’s sitting.

I want to feel loved and not revolted with force.

I want him to appreciate every single pink line trailing my skin.

I want us to laugh the gentle kind of laugh that fills one’s body with warm goodness.

I want to lie there on the floor immersed in our wetness in delight.

I want to snuggle up and feel the muscle flex and dance with the flames from the fireplace.

I want to be able to taste and smell the morning breath unchanged.

Right now I sit in this chair typing away. I continue to go unnoticed and unwanted each passing day. I sit in this chair of hope reaching out to the universe called the world wide web. Hoping that somehow there is a connection among the wires or wireless circuits that run our electronic devices. I yearn for that love I do not think I have yet experienced but witnessed so many others obtain. I am reminded of the old woman in class that said she had only 3 great loves in her lifetime. I still have 0 as I reach a quarter of the way through. I sit here silent fighting back tears some days I let them overflow the dam damaged the floodgates opened. That’s what I am doing now leaving myself vulnerable to anyone who happens to read this. I have desires for hot, passionate, and sensual love or is it lust. The one thing I struggle beating down is the feeling of loneliness. Loneliness is like those damn air balloon things we used to hit as a kid and was held down by sand. Those toys just popped back up no matter how many times you bopped it.

As I lay my head against my cold blue shoulder,
I see the shivers,
I hear the tears.

Stiff as a board,
my out of body experience whispers
a deafening blow,
The wind breezes past the drum.

The worst part of it all,
is the tik tik tik,
the pat pat pat,
of a swollen heart ready
to burst.

A flowing river longer
than Miss Issipp I’s
strands of hair so translucent.
My tears are no match.


PRIDE 2015

May all my fellow LGBTQ persons and allies enjoy celebrating Pride this year. We have seen a tremendous change over the years with human rights. Let us reflect on how far we have come as people in general. Most of us have wanted nothing more than equality for all and we made one huge step in our mighty country and it is FABULOUS. I will try not to bore you all with too many words. Take a second to go out and take a breath of  air, look around, and know we are making progress. We have all in our little ways contributed to this difference. Celebrate with those close to you and share the love.



A Moment in 2015

I learned that I no longer want to put up with bullshit. I am finishing college as an undergrad. To be honest my college experience has been very enriching. I am thankful for every experience I’ve had. There have been some tough days along with great ones. I have learned that I am an intellectual fighter. I want to push the envelope so to speak. I enjoy forcing others to look beyond and become involved with something they may not understand. I no longer tolerate intolerance, in fact I do not want to just tolerate I want to understand others. I want to understand other cultures their food, their language, even their ways of thinking. Unfortunately, I have realized not everyone thinks similarly. As someone pointed out to me it is 2015. We are living in a time where people had aspirations. The hope for unity, more technological gadgets, little debt, living to enjoy life. Instead we continue to suffer. We suffer from racism, discrimination, ageism, sexism, and all the “isms” that are in existence throughout the world. We have not taken away the stigma associated with social deviance. We still do not take the time to understand them. We allow laws to be passed that encourage this way of thinking. We thought we made progress but fail to see the two steps back we have taken. I choose to take the blinders off. I want to see this world for what it is. I hope to gain an army of people who take the time to learn and teach others. We are in a place where unity has been broken. Sex slaves remain and we use language to demean the prostitutes that walk our corners. The homeless sleeping on the street without blankets, coats, or a place to make themselves clean. We walk by some giving a nickel or two others walk away choosing to ignore the needy. Making statements such as get a job without asking how they ended up on the side of the road. Without their side we wouldn’t realize that some suffer from mental disorders, some lost their homes to a divorce, a natural disaster, lost their jobs. The unemployed lest we forget that an income keeps the roof over our heads and the heater on. It’s below freezing out but the weather is not the only thing that is cold. Take a look around where are you? Myself I am sitting in a lobby with colleagues unaware of our futures and the influential power we hold. Just typing a way with a heater blasting hot air shielding us from the bitter cold, fridges that hold our fresh food. Friends to share our laughter and secrets with. It starts with my group we need to be aware of these issues to ensure we help those in need instead of allowing ourselves to be motivated by money. Trying to live a decent life. Well decency in my opinion isn’t just the way we are but the way we are with others those around us. Yes we may encounter people who choose to hate others that they do not understand but we must not allow them to get a rise out of us. We must learn to try our best to teach them better. Our little seed may grow or may wither but the remains will stay for some period of time. This year I am stronger and I am ready to make a difference. I am one person but I can plant an infinite amount of these seeds. I just hope more will bloom and thrive. (end rant)


Covered In Macy Gray

When I listen to Macy Gray I hear a voice of hurt.

A voice which cracks at the thought of cracked and broken memories.

She has the power to make us dance with tears in our eyes,

Beneath the pouring rain falling down

Mini droplets splashing into smaller bits that are left unnoticed.

Like Macy’s Creep

Wanting “a perfect body” and “a perfect soul”.

If others are special when do we take the time to find what’s special in us?

The whole point is to see where we belong right?


So we start to explore

Unimaginable depths.

Once we look into the mirror and compare ourselves to other beings

The eating or restriction of eating begins

Along with the illicit illegalities we

Try to climb the ladder to reach a higher being,

Begin to being.

Then you have our personal connections

With mom and dad

With our brother and sisters

With our friends and colleagues or peers

Whoever we identify them as

They are a reflection of us.

They build us up and we snip out

The one’s who bring us down.

There is no concept of the weakest link just

The weakest self.

Our personal struggles that pull

Together the strings of our souls.

We look for other outlets

Other ways in and ways out.

Until we reach a dark place

And our reflection exists no more.

We continue throughout our lives to search

For ourselves but fail to realize

We begin with a blank map, a blank slate,

That leads to our destiny,

Which has started and ended,

Unaware that it was predetermined.

Drowning for the love of ourselves not others.

No one throws forth the rafts or anchors.

– Foxxie

Beaten and Bruised but not Broken

By Foxxie St. James

How do you tell someone “I love you”?
It’s like having to inform someone about a loved one’s death.
There’s that word again love…
There is no easy way to go about that.
Do we need to stay in the lines?
Why do we allow others
To misguide us,
To mistreat us,
And drain us to exhaustion?
How do you know if you love someone?
How would you know a feeling you’ve never experienced?
Love is an unforgiving path.
Why place emphasis on truth when we have no clue how we truly feel?
Some things are just better left unknown.
Too much information can compel us.

Bind Me Ever So Lightly

I have not lost one, but two.
My thoughts tend to obsess
Over their characteristics.
Both ever so bold,
Both ever so independent.
I wanted to be the one,
Their fire blanket ever so gently
Protecting them from harm.
I wanted to be the cook,
The caregiver,
The love maker,
Money wasn’t a concern of mine.
He was a marine;
Strong, Brave, and Bold.
He was a construction worker;
Strong, Fearless and Stubborn.
Both could have lifted me
Way above my limited expectations.
They could have sent down a rope
Lifting me up from my turmoil.
My fantasies have prevented me from realizing,
They provided.
They sheltered.
They comforted.
They consoled.
They healed.
They loved.

– Foxxie


I can’t help but sit here and think what the f*** did I do? You no longer speak to me it’s as if I never existed. It’s as if my very existence has gone into oblivion in your world. Do you think of me from time to time? I doubt it. I just continue to sit here and sip my tea. I love the taste of honey and tea. The way it flows; warm, hot, and thick, much like your jizz bizz. Haha it’s funny to think about. I wonder if it was all a dream. The first time we met, the first laugh we shared, the secrets we told each other, exploring our little world together on a steady path to nowhere. I miss you. I really do and even though you can’t see me I still see you.


Look at Me

As I lay here, naked, I look to the one next to me. Short black hair with a few wisp of white, indicating to me that he is wise. I look at him then I think about me. Could he care for me? Then again I stop to remind myself no this was supposed to be a fun thing. This was a fling another account of summer love. I know when he clings onto me he craves me and only me for what I have. I’m not talking about youthfulness but I’m referring to my freedom. Yes, the freedom to travel, to complete school, to love another man without fear. I hold him tightly allowing my body to express that I do have the freedom to love and I chose to share a bit of that love to him. I look to him seeing all the qualities of a man I want to be; strong, assertive, yet gentle…all at once. He represents independence and he has an essence about him that can be like the super hereos that everyone once wanted to be or wanted to have. I have both. They say age is just a number but I think two consenting adults feel more than the physical. We look at each other with passion. Inside I feel nothing but chaos followed by a sweet slumber.  Where I turn to look at my lover and he turns to look at me. Once two strangers now together sharing a moment of pleasure and envy. I lay there vulnerable as he continues to look at me and only me.