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About Me
- Ms. Brittany 'B' Ross
- I'm simply a design of God. I create what he tells me to create. Some call me a hairstylist, makeup artist, stylist, poet, designer, writer, painter... I call me B.Ross the great "I AM".
Friday, October 14, 2011
Pray for THEM.
As we lay in bed praying for peace of mind some lay across dead bodies simply praying for peace pleading with enemies to spare the life of their children they point the gun to themselves, " Neem my!!" they scream 'take me!' and as they cry in agony they feel the bodies of their children collapse in their arms, heads blown off, eyes fallen to their cheeks and bones disfigured and barely assembled to their body -- They live in hell on earth, no starvation or unemployment amounts to this hell, this darkness is far to black to ever see light, gorilla warfare assassins hidden behind homes at night and every sound wakes them, every footstep is a gut wrenching noise they are restless while we toss and turn because we are thinking of how we will pay our bills tomorrow they wish tomorrow never comes ... Tonight pray for them. Pray for them tonight.
Sunday, October 2, 2011
"My conversation with (G)od" ... this is a poem by Me.
They say a drunk man says what a sober man thinks... Well I'm somewhere in-between, stomach aching from last nights tequila & lime looking through my drunk text messages, 1am, where u at ? ... 3:15, come get me! ... 5am pleading with him to F me one last time, last time was my last time I tell myself but I'm lying again, pissed off because I'm tired of being only a friend, I let this start but don't know how to make it end coz everytime he text back I'm smiling again... the devil isn't right but he makes a good friend--- see that's where my thoughts are at right now, hungover, barely sober but I can't tell if what I'm thinking is real just like when someone kisses me I can't tell how they feel...and I'm not even loving myself anymore, convinced I don't need love coz every man is a whore, I'm mad as hell that my mind could think such thoughts so I work hard as hell so my liquor can be brought and chase my pain with champagne, then get f'd up and scream "I'll never do this shit again!!!!" ... til I sober up enough to forget how sick I was and next week I'm celebrating at the bar just because... This cycle is becoming bigger than ME... I'm f'd up and I know it G
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