Why do I have to be loyal to an unfaithful race of men?

By any means necessary rescue him, protect him, submit to him, cover him, support him, and embrace him. Embrace his growth or lack there of. Embrace his soul or lack there of. Support his struggle, yet repress my own. As women we shouldn’t have pain. But oh we bleed. We bleed from the gaping wound that refuses to heal from the gash left from where you last cut me. Cut us. For every woman that has been deceived. For every woman that was lead on. For every woman that heart rips every time the painful memories of rejection flashes. Flashes. Our thoughts are minimized by “That’s just how we are” and generalized by accusations of bitterness, so we remain quiet. We put on our super woman cape to hide to pain. We hide the pain in another achievement, an organization, a new promotion. We excel in life yet fail in love. What happens to the woman who’s heart is broken? Nothing

I have to be loyal to a race of men who are fickle. Here today gone tomorrow. The real running man challenge. You run from responsibility, you run from your children, you run from personal development, you run to other women as a band-aid.The truth is you’re broken and instead of healing. You are a weapon of mass destruction wreaking havoc on any Innocent by-standard that you come in contact with.

Black women become a causality of war. The real war that you have with yourself. Black men refuse to get help because apparently nothing is wrong with them. However EVERYTHING is wrong with us. Black women are too strong, too independent, too angry.

I have to turn a blind eye to a race of men who are dismissive. Hush. Silence. We don’t want to hear your pain. Forgive. Move on. Get over it. It’s so easy for the one who smiles in your face while he slowly drives a knife in your back to say let bygones be bygones. Holding hearts hostage. Parts of me want to accept the fact that men will never change and be a walking zombie and accept their crap. NO! How do you want to lead but refuse to grow the hell up! Why are we on the front lines fighting for black men who disown us, dismiss us and reject us. Who do we Blame for this catastrophe? Is it the parents who raise their daughters to be CEO’s yet coddle their sons into a Haphazard way of living. Smoke and mirrors there’s nothing real about him. Pumped up by ego strokes and notches on his belt. Like the grim reaper… He is Death…collecting souls. He kills her joy, he kills her peace, just the enemy he searches for who he will devour. Preying! Preying on the insecurities of women, preying on the abused, the neglected the innocent and the fatherless with no intention of real commitment a barrage of empty promises and visions of grandeur he entraps his new victim. Only to whisk her away to the imaginary Neverland, where he’ll never commit, he’ll never marry her and he’ll never emerge. He’s the perfect stranger! He doesn’t even know himself. He’s wore the facade for so long his representative has taken a life form of it’s own. He’ll become whatever or whoever he needs to be… transformer robot in disguise. You’re a black hole sucking in anyone with your empty promises and dead end dreams. You can change your mind any day… have amnesia forget the words that you etched in her soul. Oscar caliber performance. Crocodile tears… give me a break! You built this house of lies.

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