Foreign Word We Call Love

Foreign Word We Call Love

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing24m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Fri, Sep 23, 2016
"What do you really love?" "Love? I don't love. Because, as soon as I do.. some shit always seems to blow up in my face.. My moms is dead b. Dead. I ain't done shit to nobody and they killed my moms. My sister is gone and my brother got fucked up in the system. So don't fucking tell me shit about what I love. Cuz it's nobody. The only thing that's been stopping me from slitting my fucking wrist is this right here," she held up the blunt. "Don't say that, cuz shit has a weird way of making its rounds, Ma." I walked closer to her. I looked in her eyes and for a quick second, I thought I could see a spark, or even a fucking emotion. She stared intensely in my eyes before blowing her smoke in my face and walking away.
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I'm not perfect. I'm a pretty fucked up person with a pretty fucked up life if you asked me. I had a messed up childhood that lead me to my fucked up life but I'm not complaining. I love the life that I live. I never regret anything because everything I went through was for my baby girl. You wanna know about my love life? I don't have one. Niggas ain't shit. I don't fucks with them on that level. Maybe an occasional one night stand but that's it. But there's one important information I forgot to tell y'all; I'm the most notorious female gang leader in the city. Read my story, if you dare ;) ©Copyright Shanyah K. 2013 All Rights Reserved. *Original description in intro.*

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