W.A.B. by Megan Thee Stallion

Oh my lord y’all don’t yell at me. I haven’t been writing. Happy new Year, three kings day, valentines, patriots day, whatever! Happy 2022. I’ve been well. I’ve been afraid. I’ve been hurt. I’ve been happy. I’ve been observing and listening. During writers block, which any writer knows can go on for days to years, it’s so hard to talk to people. It’s hard to filter how you feel. It’s hard to put it into words. It’s not that I haven’t written anything since last year, it’s just that I haven’t been consistently in a flow where I can write. But I DO have something to share! THE CANTAB IS OPEN. And it’s helped me to hear and be inspired by all of these poets again, new and old comers. I’m so grateful to have my sanctuary back. I’m so blessed to see everyone and meet new people. I thank God for giving me back the Cantab and keeping everyone there safe.

The poem I have for y’all today is… a step towards my healing. I reached out to make new friends during the past years, or just maintain the ones I left school with. A lot of those relationships have fallen to the wayside for me. A lot of those people weren’t right for me. A lot of people are underwhelming and disingenuous and it was like trying to blend oil and water. I’m not someone that enjoys wasting my time or anyones time or energy. While I want a gang of amazing people around me, not everyone is amazing or worthy. It’s hard not to serve your ego when you go through a breakup because it’s one of the first things to bruise when it happens. So some people spend their healing time just trying to please their ego or regain a sense of security and self. Whatever it is, I know I’m not entitled to anyones time, effort or friendship. That’s why I don’t volunteer mine so openly either. My healing is about my final thoughts more than trying to gain anything necessarily. While I was hurt that I invested in them and they turned out to be trash, I didn’t lose anything I feel I need to regain. I realize and give grace to any and everyone because of everything we’re going through as people in these times. Some people are hanging on by a thread of sanity and they can’t be counted on to show up for you the way you need. But some people are just fake, rude, and purposefully obtuse because it serves them and disarms anyone else. Those people are the ones I wrote this for. It’s called Weak Ass Bitches 😘

W.A.B.

At risk of y’all thinking I haven’t healed yet

At risk of being called bitter when bitches really had me stressed

Imma reclaim my anger’s time.

As much as a man can wound my ego

As deep as a family can cut to get to the bone

You fake hoes hurt me the most.

I don’t mean hoes in terms of sex

I don’t mean hoes, the ones that get the gardens wet

I mean hoes that mean to make me upset

They mean to disturb you, learn you, envy everything about you,

Never show up in the ways you need

But always taking back lame dudes

They never leave their knees.

Unless it’s time to be seen at the latest party with people they’d never call if they’re in need

Ain’t that how energy suckers move?

In the dark, between smoke, bottles and mirages

Ain’t that some shit?

The fake ones get to stay on the move,

Like a disease

That always has someone to go to.

Someone to host you and cut you down for the charcuterie board

Comparisons and lies sandwiched between bread

I swear I’m trying to get you hatin hoes off my chest and out of my head.

I write poetry for my friends

I ask how to love my friends in ways their hearts understands

I grew up seeing my mother be the sister, the keeper, the prayer in the morning, and the hands that hold sisters as they wail.

Of course I value sisterhood, it’s always been an addition to my family

I’ve seen love between friends spill over generations, land and sea,

Years in,

Trips taken

Tears in,

Prayers called in,

Lives we’ve lived in like the traveling pants

Maybe I was just projecting

but I tried to explain my needs and how to meet them

Yall make me feel like the distance between  love and me is rocket science or an impossible feat

I don’t know,

Yall hoes are still out together

So maybe it’s me

Maybe it’s my ego and you’re better without me

Maybe it’s the sadness that sets in after you set your boundaries

Maybe I’m the true empath that feels upset about leaving

Upset I called bullshit and you all agreed

Upset I’m a bad bitch that you can’t compete

Baby isn’t it clear we don’t compare

At the risk of sounding like a hater

At the risk of just being hurt by someone who could care less

Who’s seen it done

And has been thrown away

Im not the love and light you wish me to be petty

That phrase is gonna get old trust me

Im the pressure on your neck that never lets up

Im the one having fun while your nose is stuck up

Yall hoes had me fucked up

I guess I should be healing

But this is not that. Bitch.

Thanks y’all ❤️ I’ll be on here more. Thanks for sticking with me