Smok’n in Havana

There’s only one thing worse than wanting something and being disappointed—REALLY wanting something and being REALLY disappointed.

You left me wanting, without, lacking, at a loss, deprived, and disgusted.

Of any position to leave a lady in

without a doubt, this is the absolute worst.

I would rather be anywhere right now.

ANYWHERE!!!

But…I’m sitting here with you…hands leisurely at my sides,

legs politely crossed in the professional pose of the corporate world

seeing you with eyes that are passion-deficient.

STARVED!!!

I mean I had a rough five days.

As my southern roommate would always say,

"Sistah-gurl, it’ll be that way sometimes.”

The funk, the feelings, the frustration.

Super pissed off right now.

So peeved I could spit-fill a sidewalk.

I had this moment yesterday…Stayfree didn’t stay; the adhesive caught a pubic hair and AAAAHHHHHHHH!!! Nobody fuckin’ move…yiyiyiyiiii…don’t touch me—don’t touch anything!

Oops, did I say that out loud?!

I. Need. RELIEF!!!

I wanna be smoking in Havana, chair back, feet up, drink chilled, body lovingly caressed by the Caribbean sun.

You remember love don’t ya? What you used to do, give, lavish, bestow, bequeath.

El amor

the feeling

and the doing.

I wanted to be done.

But you cut the power to the kitchen just as the cake was starting to rise…

You reached your proverbial summit but neglected—no refused—to take me along.

So, I don’t care how you take this—don’t give a damn if you’re offended because I am a woman unfulfilled thus,

I need to see me without you seeing me smoking in Havana while the waiter asks me how I want my fish prepared and the driver of my ‘60s convertible speeds me to the ultimate cultural bliss.

Won’t miss soothing my senses, easing my mind smoking in Havana…picking up phrases of broken Spanish to say things like

“Yes, I would like to purchase that white cotton sundress” and

“Sure, I’ll take the afternoon massage slot and can you make sure it’s a man with strong arms but a gentle touch, broad chest, and engaging smile. Someone who’s easygoing, easy to talk to, and easy on the eyes por favor gracias.”

Oh, I am so feeling Havana, feeling the fiestas, flavor, and the freedom from all that is you.

Oh my God, YOU ARE NOT GRUMBLING!!!

You have the nerve to complain after all you DIDN’T do!

You, who have no drive or power and don’t finish what you start.

I would rather be sleep-deprived through a summary lecture on the contents of statistical analysis.

I could wake up 6 am on a Saturday, lips numb, saliva dripping, central nervous system overloaded and have a full root canal rather than be here with you.

I’d prefer a barium enema, a pelvic exam, a twenty-page paper on mid-level business management styles, a court date with the judge from hell, and to all you vegetarians out there a ham sandwich with cheese, tomato, and bacon bits *PUKE!*

But I’d really rather be smoking in Havana,

chair back, feet up, drink chilled,

body lovingly caressed by the Caribbean sun,

mind relaxed, view unobstructed,

soul free…

And I don’t even smoke.

Truth be told, I wrote this poem in my early twenties and it was in the category of 'NEVER SHARE.' The idea ran free-flowing from my brain after reading some interesting new names of nail polish colors in the beauty salon I frequented. The only factual part of this piece is that I did have a southern roommate in college and that saying was her catchphrase.

Why share it now?

Well...I decided to take a big flying leap outside an 'In-denial-I-had-this-comfort-zone' comfort zone after reading a raw unedited poem from Vocal Creator Kayleigh Fraser that she published on Vocal as well as the same reworked finished piece. You can read them both below:-

After that, I thought to myself, "What is one piece that shows dark underbelly-me?" Certain I would NEVER publish it mind you. But am I afraid of an ol' poem? Nah! Of course not!

Writers are an infinite array of energies and experiences, and sometimes, we surprise even ourselves.

Note: Please read it fast before I hit 'delete.'