Dirty Laundry by Hazel Salazar

thestuffhole asked: When I was in high school I tried to wear a shot gun shell around my neck to school but my parents wouldn't let me. I was pretty angry.

Ha this is one of my favorite pieces! Ha they should have let you wear it. 

Strands of my hair coiled around your fingers

Your voice filled with vibrato, as if you were a singer

Flat on the bed, now in a back bend

Both of our mouths open, from beginning to end

Mine’s open, but it’s not connected to yours

It’s silent but gaping, wanting to be on your contours

I want to close it, but it continues to drop

I put it on your lips, now my eyes start to pop

It began to close, but you kissed it, back open

All of Newton’s Law’s are put in to motion

My mouth starts to clench, but so do my muscles below

We never make love fast, baby we always make it slow

We value every push, and squeezing that we make 

Only thing of value, is the sensations that we intake

A noise starts to make from opening of my face

A sound that you muffle, with your skin as I taste

Your lips, and your breath is filling all of me

I gasp in your air, I think we’ve found the key

So let’s keep the key locked, only for each other

Cause you’re the only one I seek, my fair boy, my fair lover

I guess I could write to pass the time….

Vanilla, sugar, butter, flour, and cream

Patty cake, patty cake, what a wet dream

I’ll bake you a cake, and put a berry on top

You call me so sweet, so baby I won’t stop

Syrup on you, it’s that syrup from me

You’re liking your lips, you like what you see

If sugar is what you want, I’ve got it for free

A lock on my panties, but you’ve got the key

Want a spice cake, I’ll bake it in a bunt

I’ll make the sweets, if you’ll roll the blunt

What’s your favorite candy? Hmm is it a runt?

I’ve got you giggling, but you call me a cunt

I know I make you smile, No, not “I”, it’s we

This is sugar, not saccharine, my love, sweetie

Can get all the cake you want, for you it’s free

Cause there’s always seconds for you in Hazel’s Bakery

No one’s world is perfect, no matter how perfect it may seem

I was a little girl, that had a little curl, and perfect family dream

Instead I had a mommy and daddy that didn’t seem to care

The only thing I got from my dad, is the color of my hair

She didn’t have the money for an abortion, that’s why I walk this earth

A couple came to adopt me after the moment that she gave birth

But my grandmother came in, and refused to let family go

I’ll always be thankful for this women, more than she’ll ever know

Living on welfare, in the projects of my desolate Ohio town

Was just the place for a bastard baby, police cars all around

Daddy smoking like a chimney , just a pretty dumb kid

High on drugs, he’s so delusional, no fucking idea what he did

Didn’t meet my abuela until I was of talking and walking age

Just an innocent child locked in a family feuding cage

The last time that I saw my sperm donor, I was the age of seven

So confused growing up, so I leaned on the man in heaven

Times got harder so my grandparents they had to raise me

With a mother with three fathers, life seemed to get so crazy

My sister’s getting raped by boyfriends, and living in a trailer

I seemed like the saved child, the silence of my mother was the jailer

Now the black sheep, Christmas was something I’ve always hated

The way things got this way, will for ever be debated

Again things aren’t always at all what they seem

Their stories always battle, it’s the lies that crushed my dreams

Either way my roots they mold me, into the woman I am today

Strong enough for life’s battles, humbled to know I’m just that clay

I swearrrrrrrr for people so dedicated to keeping their lives so kosher, so many of them do anything but exemplify God.  No empathy, just dollar bills.  So sad….

Are you broken off, of just simply broken

We’re freaking it out South of Hoboken

Marker in hand, we can tag up this place

We’ll smoke a J with that fine white lace

You throw up my name in a dark phone booth

Defacing public property, but keeping it so couth 

You’ve got red lips from devouring mine

All it took was some tree, and a bottle of wine

We’ll admit that we’re fun, no, not to boast

We can light up any room, anywhere, any coast

So no matter if I keep it East, or move it to the West

I’ll always stay sweet, never give writing a rest

The perks of living in NYC…

My boo lives in Bushwick,

But he’s taller than Bushwick

Not by much

Now roll that dutch

So I can get my lips licked