Joined: February 2, 2011
Last Seen: 1 week
Birthday: November 13
user id: 150777
Location: MA
Gender: F

My Name is

A woman taken by the wind

Take my hand and together we'll find


Quotes by mariah_love1369


She holds the stars in her eyes,
And the cosmos in between her thighs
She’s an intergalactic masterpiece
With the constellations littered across her skin,
Her energy is sizzling, captivating, draws you in
Just like the galaxy in the night sky.
She leaves you wondering and wanting so much more

You want to dive into her, reach her at her core
But she is light years away, dancing on stars
She thrives on Saturn but her heart is in mars
She holds the stars in her eyes,
The cosmos between her thighs
She is the universe.  


 “ I love your hair”

A  sentence i heard as a child almost as religiously as my father telling me to pray. Small midnight curly Qs unlike anyone else's, framed my face. My hair is a dandelion , beautiful to look at yet difficult to work through and too much to handle at times. My mom had to go to war with my hair before it would cooperate, still she would say

“ I love your hair”

As my age started to climb its way up the mountain of adolescence, I abolished the spirals for a trendier, straight hair style. I would kill each strand by crushing them between two hot plates. Everywhere my eyes landed I was reminded no one had curls like mine. Reminded my hair, like my melanin, sets me apart from everyone else. My curls forced to be covered by my insecurity of being too different.

“ I love your hair”

They would say to me as fingers ran through the layers of silk that flowed down to the middle of my back , an amazon river of hair. I would smile and say thank you , while on the inside shaking with happiness, brought on by social acceptance. Knowing someone could run five digits through my hair with absolute ease satisfied me to no end.

“ I love your hair”

My mom would tell me as I refused to step foot outside of the house without straight hair. Only allowing my hair to breathe for the miniscule ten minutes after I left the shower, before torturing it with unruly heat. The ringlets screaming in agony, in sync with my scalp who had had enough of the constant tugging. My wrists became weak as the hours went by, still I pushed through. Never stopping until every piece of hair was the straightest it could be.

“I love your hair”

Friends who had gotten a rare glimpse of it’s true form would say, trying to convince me to join them in the pool. Countless summers I spent cooking under the sun by choice. Refusing to put even a foot in the water as if it were lava. I feared the smallest drop would land on my head and un mask the monster that resides behind it. I was ashamed of my hair, myself, my blackness.

“ I love my hair”
I say now after four years of embracing the garden of hair with open arms. Even as I struggle to find the nutrients to make it flourish and the techniques to allow it to sit just right. It is loud when it is let down to speak, grows bigger as the wind brushes by. My curls have healed from the abuse I have put them through. Today they thrive, just like I , My hair was never meant to conform to society's demands. And Whenever my eyes land , I am reminded no one has hair like me and that’s why

I love my hair.


My heart lies within outerspace



In 12 days I will be 20 years old.
In 2011 I was 12.
The year i first joined witty profiles.
wittyprofiles was the first social media i really ever have experienced, my mom breifly let me have a facebook but it proceeded to get taken away because of whatever bad thing i was doing that was not approriate for a 12 year old girl on the internet. I was shown witty by my bestfriend and that would become my hobby. I would spend all my free time writing poetry or qoutes or look for song lyrics that i thought would get likes. I would spend so much of my free time learning how to make the quotes that people wanted to see and read, thousands of people used to grace this site with their words, creativity and bulls**. All of us going through simialr situations. wetaher it be figruing out what love is and heartbreak or learning about social norms we just can't wrap our heads around, sometimes we bonded over our mental illneses some of us not even realizing the feelings we were describing matched those of a mental illness. There were no censors on us back then, you could unleash hell in your quote and post it for the world to see. Witty seemed endless. Now here I am in college, sitting at my work study job browsing the hallow sections of witty and I can't help but feel a mixture of things. Happiness because some of these quotes I created are scattered with such pain I never believed I would survive, Sadness because I wish witty was still as explosive and beautiful as it used to be, emptiness because I wonder where everyone who grew up on here with me is at today and most of all fear. Fear of time escaping me so quickly, when my eyes first became fixated on wittyprofiles I thought  20 was light years away and now its approaching my doorstep. I'm still scared of what the future holds for me but not as much as when I was 12, things are not perfect but things are better than they once were. The old witty is legendary and could never be replicated but I do hope, one day , some how a group of pre teen kids find this place and blow it up with color and creativity just like we once did.  
Thank you witty for helping be get through my teen years

 all i can think about is what i have become. I have somehow become one of the girls i have always rolled my eyes at and would deem stupid. I have become that girl who misses him so much that no matter what he had done or continioues to do to hurt me, i wil always accept him into my opening arms with a genuine smile. I am the girl who believes him when he tells me he wants me and still loves me and takes his klndness as hope that we can one day be as we once were. I am the girl who cries when he hurts me again and am surprised that he would do so. I am the girl who is so in love and afraid to let go that i take the pain he inflicts on me over and over again because nothings more painful than not having him in my life at all. It has taken months to realize what i deserve, what i should tolerate and what is pointless.
I was that girl, she's dead now 

And everytime the old you starts to come back i fool myself into thinking that you will never hurt me again, that you really want to be with me.
and each time I am proved wrong,the wound in my chest pried opened

I'm shattered glass strewn across the floor, you didn't bother to pick up...

He is Forbidden in the most tempting way. Eyes that ignite my body into ravishing flames,begging to be put out with his lips. Lips that speak words like silk sheets, I want to hear over and over again. I do not know him, have only met him merely a handful of times but I feel sizzizling electricity in between us ,every encounter He is forbidden in the way his whole demeanor says warning; danger ahead. I can't help but want to move forward , can't help but want to meet the demons dancing behind his predator like eyes. Eyes that devour me whole. He does not see me in the same way however , as far as I'm aware. And if he did, god, fear and thrill would twine into one and course through my veins viciously. But he is older,experienced, dangerous and your friend. Forbidden

when he decided to waltz back into my life
he asked me
"why are you so heartless?"
seeming to have forgotten he still had my heart
when he left,
never bothering to return it.