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  • Writer's pictureDance Junkie


She walked into an alleyway behind the building


This isn’t new

She’s always afraid

Not afraid of someone or of her safety

She was afraid of….

What… life?

The question rolled around in her head

“Is this different?”

She asked herself quietly


She thought

“Is this any different from last time?”

This had to be done differently

But how?

How could this time be different from the last?

The last time she checked him out before committing

She had made him wait for 90 days… some bullshit she had read in a book

But when she was ready to give her all

He left

It was too much

She was too much he said

And she died a little

Despite this effort to do it differently…

It still didn’t work out

She gave her all

she still got hurt


She was tired

Tired of giving her all only to be left with nothing

She was tired

Tired of starting over

Tired of trying

But how do you stop…trying?

Love is a beautiful thing - when it is done right

And she had seen it done right

And she wanted that special love for herself


Here she is alone again

She couldn’t help but wonder…

what was she doing wrong

that age old questions –

maybe she wasn’t meant to have love

maybe she was meant to be alone

and maybe she should just accept that

But she knew that is not what she wanted

She wanted to be loved and to love someone

Once upon a time she heard the definition of insanity was to continue to do the same things the same ways and expect different results.

So was she…insane?

Was she doing the same thing?


She doesn’t trust without making them earn it

She doesn’t give in too easily

She doesn’t get her hopes up because disappointment is the trigger to depression

She doesn’t invest until she thinks that she is sure

And yet she falls over and over again for the same man in different clothing

“What can I do differently! What the HELL am I supposed to do?” she yells into the alleyway.

Expecting an answer

“I just want to be loved” she whimpered as she hugged herself tightly

Hot tears caressed her face

“I don’t want to do this again.”

She heard some rustling noises in the background

She quickly fixed her face and pulled herself together

She mustered up the courage to look behind her

It was a homeless woman

The woman was rummaging through the trash cans looking for whatever

Maybe cans

They locked eyes for a brief second before she,


looked away

“I should get home,” the woman thought to herself and looked one more time at the homeless woman who was now studying her.

She looked into her purse to find some cash to hand the woman

She looked up at her

The old homeless woman’s eyes were set on her.

She walked towards the homeless woman with a $5 bill in her hand.

“I am sorry this is all I have,” she said to the homeless woman

The homeless woman took the five and put it into her bra

And continued to stare

She looked away

Again embarrassed by this whole thing

She began to walk away from the homeless woman Her heels made a rhythmic pattern on the street and she was 10 feet away when the homeless woman yelled.

“We all want someone to love - but it’s not going to happen until we love ourselves. Believe me, I know”

She stopped dead in her tracks.

Her heart in her throat as tears began to pour

She slowly turned to face the old homeless woman

But she was gone

She disappeared as if she had never been there…

And left her with that question we should ask ourselves

Do we?

Do we really love ourselves enough?

Well sis…

Do you?

Do you give love and support to yourself the same way that you would give to a man

Do you spoil you?

Well sis…

Do you?

Art work by Amaya Jones on Instagram

Edited by Ebony Goodrich - but I am a hard headed sooo...

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