The Pressure

I care about you, more then you’ll ever know. I just don’t havee time to let you know. I work, I grind, and I just don’t have time. Maybe one day one day I’ll look back and regret ever letting you walk away. Matter of fact I know its coming and I will dread that day. But when I look back and see you with someone new I won’t be sad or mad. I know I did what I had to do to complete my grind and what I needed to do for me. I’m sorry I could not emotionally satisfy you the way you needed, but I can barely satisfy myself dear. I hope you find everything you tried to find in me. You constantly looking for love and seeking it in someone with a mind like mine, that just isn’t something I could do for you. Sometimes I feel boys come across me so I can transition them into men, and although I’m left alone it is completely fine. One less problem out of the many I have to deal with on a daily. Don’t come over to me, adding a pile on top of being a woman, a black woman, who cares about herself, who supports herself, who does for herself. Don’t ever try and pile something else on top of that. How dare you. The pressure is there, and although I won’t break, I’m sorry I couldn’t alleviate yours, quite frankly for you to change I didn’t have a fuck to give or time to wait.

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