Fall easy, hard and long

falling in and out of love

I remember my very first crush. It was my third grade teacher.

Who looked like, Vanessa Williams!

My second crush, involved two.

Saretta. We lived on the same block and went to the same elementary school.

And Miss Brown, who lived around the corner and taught me how to Crochet and Knit.

My last crush, became my mate, for fifteen years.

Reoccurring dreams, Seasons and dates, make it difficult to forget her and to move on.

I know, I will love her forever.

I just want to stop mourning the lost.

I thank my Pastor and Friend, Rev Shorb-Sterling. Who’s retiring soon.

Besides my dad, She was the only person that empathized with my many challenges.

So much so, she supplied the words for me, when I was unable to express how I felt.

Something I lacked from family and friends of more than thirty years.

I will miss her tremendously.

I love you Rev Sue!

I pray we all have the Peace this World needs to heal.

God Bless!


Love, Lies and Records

It seems most everything reminds me of my Ex. Now a scene in one of my shows “Love, Lies & Records”

The story line, though written for a heterosexual couple, was so similar to what I experienced in my relationship, it brought me to tears.

How do you get over someone, you still love?

Although we can’t be together, I can’t imagine myself with anyone else.

[I understand how one spouse, loses another and never wants/desires to be with anyone else]

I know it’s this idle time, that makes me think of her more. But fact is, we had a lot of great times.

[The physical attraction so strong, we had secret rendezvous, for 15 years]

I learn from everyone I encounter. She would open the Blinds/Curtains. As soon as she woke up.

[I used our break up, to lose weight and get fit]

Having depression, I liked darkness and was annoyed. But got used to it.

And I realized, it made me feel better.

[why I think of her so often]

How do you move on?

Question, Why is it, when doing online searches for Female Friends, you get directed to dating sites?!

Ridiculous, repetitive and annoying.

Someone legitimately looking for friendships, community support, etc.



Depression, The Struggle

As I struggle (emotionally) everyday, I keep hearing those words said to me, a couple of weeks ago.

“I don’t get (it) depression.”

[It was like having my feelings dismissed]

I make myself busy (forcing myself to do something, besides lie in bed and isolate)

I feel better. A few minutes later, I feel sadness.

It reminds me to, take my meds.

I get back to doing.

I feel better. A few minutes later, I feel sadness.

Again, I get back to, doing and thinking.

Thinking about why I’m feeling sensitive, agitated, etc.

Could it be me.

And I (and my therapist) concluded that,

It ain’t me.

So I continue, doing.

I feel better and sad again.

Because I’m reminded of how people with Cancer or Heart disease, provoke sympathy and support.

And depression, provokes what it does (“I don’t get depression”)

Depression has been a life long struggle.

And as I have no control over this, I have learned how to manage it.

[having had suicidal thoughts, all my life]

It’s like being gay (!)


Who would, Choose it?

Being Black




Who chose, It?


“Depression, I don’t get it”

Just the other day, someone said to me,

“Depression, I don’t get it”

A while back, someone else said,

“I had it” and how great their life was.

As if to say, “Get over it, I did”

I wish it was that simple.

Depression makes me isolate.

But I went out (doing the opposite)

And I get “I don’t get depression”

Lucky you.


What’s the alternative?

Where do I find?
Mutual understanding
Racial Progression

I am;
Mentally Ill/Able (on SSD)

I need;

I’m 57 years old. And extremely tired.
Last year I prayed, that if my life wasn’t going to be better, that I didn’t want to be here.

[I’ve learned through the years, to be precise in your prayers]

It got better.

[I presume, being able to deal with situations accordingly/maturely, is life. So, better. High marks from my therapist]

Still, I feel as equally about life, as I do death.
My dad is 80. With Stage 4 cancer. I don’t know, that he really knows.
Memory loss, has some use.

He’s never complaint or asked for anything, my whole life.
It’s why I feel guilt, when I serve others (not him)

I’m a daddy’s girl.
I’ve never been able to imagine life without him.

What’s life?
living for others
Having a family (or not)

What’s most important?
My dad.
The betterment, of the rest of his life.

Because relationships change.

[Due to illness, money, etc]

I am Christian.
I am a Realist.
I am angry.

I pray I make decisions, based on the needs of others. That I do what’s best, through those decisions. And that All, is guided by You.

Too much time has been wasted.

I have never felt complacency, about the issues that plaque my Race.

Yet, I know no one, that feels as I do or is motivated to do, anything about it.

I am tired of being limited.

By our own inabilities or the obstacles placed in our way.

I now pray there are others, who will read this, with mutual understanding and aspirations.

If you identify, Please reach out.

I am.

What’s the Alternative?

You can contact me at:
Email: deeds4needs@yahoo.com

Peace, Yvette


I never been one for, small talk.

For the most part, I speak to express my feelings.

[Something that took, recovery and years of therapy]

Why I think I listen, with a compassionate ear.

But what warrants a, turned up mouth or rolling eyes, when one speaks?

Some say they care.

It seems true.

Long enough to have their wants or needs, satisfied.

So, don’t ask me why, when I become silent.

Remember, I spoke.

You didn’t listen.







The Lonely Lesbie

I hoped I would miss you, less and less over time.

It’s been two years.

Two years since I’ve seen you or heard your voice.

I did all I could, to get you out of my system.

It worked, for a bit.

But then, I had a moment.

And I text you.

Desperate, for even one of your, one worded responses.

I think of the good.

The weekend get aways to “The Room”

The road trips.

To Virginia, Pennsylvania. Martha’s Vineyard.

And the, not so good.

Him. Us and him again.

Still, I love you, as much as I did, the first time I met you.

Because, Whatever we were,

You were always, straight with me.

I miss you, immensely.


Speak, To prevent this from continuing

You know how it is, when someone or something, brings back a time in your life,

That was either good or bad?

This has me shaking.

I liked where we lived, in the early seventies.

My dad, my sister and I.

I didn’t realize it at the time, but most of our neighbors were single fathers, like my dad.

But this family (that I also must speak about) had a mother, father, a boy and girl.

Who were a couple/few years older than, my sister and I.

Although I don’t remember details (there was touching) I do have the memories, of how it made me feel.

[Our parents drank. And they would drink at each others place. Leaving us alone, playing, at each others place]

When our building had to be renovated, we had to move.

This new neighborhood had a family, that had both parents, many children (older than us) and no discipline.


Long story short. And why I must speak.

I was eleven years old. We started hanging with this family, who’s parents allowed, sex, drugs (sold marijuana and where I smoked my first joint) and alcohol.

[My dad tried deperately, to stop us]

There were no limits.

Although I was doing any and everything I wanted to do (sex, weed and alcohol)

There was one time I was asleep.

And woke up to one of those older boys, trying to violate me.

It didn’t take me long (just a few months) to realize, all this freedom was the worst thing that could have happened to us.

So I left. My sister stayed.

[early pregnacies, would be a reaccurence, in our family]

A few days ago, I received a friend request.

I thought from, this, that tried to violate me while I was sleep.

[as I said, my sister stayed. And is connected, by a click. Why I got the request]

I immediately got nervous, started shaking and prepared myself to tell him, why I wouldn’t have accepted his friend request.

But it was his brother.

I just declined, the friend request.

Then my sister (who rarely calls) tries to call me.

to tell me, that this person is trying to contact me.

[This person, who’s a part of the family I purposely omitted from my life]

My sister then texts me, that this person is trying to contact me.

And then, tells someone else, to tell me, this person, is trying to contact me.

I then have to tell her, I know. That I’m not interested.

Click, bye, bye, delete.

Whatever it takes for me to be healthy.

I speak, because I want people to know the things that happened to me and how they affect me, even now.

Forty five years later.

I pray to God, we prevent someone from going through the painful issues associated with sexual abuse.


When does it end?

How long will this be? I miss you so much, I’m finding it difficult, to think about anything but you. I know (among other reasons) why.

I woke up, having had, dreamt about you.

You were a mix of two maybe three people, I found attractive. You of course being,

the primary one.

[we were intimately compatible, from beginning to end]

My dream the reminder, the reason, I can’t focus on anything else.

And why not? We were together,  for fifteen years.

And your birthday just past in January.

Another next month. March.

The other reminder that, someone else I love and miss, is also out of my life.

Something, I never imagined.

All of me hurts, this time of year.

When I love,

I love, All of You.