Kyle Ena, my sugar mommy
Editor’s Note
Trigger warning: domestic violence, sexual violence and assault, sexual content, explicit and racialized language
Our decision to publish trigger warnings is rooted in our care for the well-being of our readers. More than our desire to elicit shock, we trust that our readers can make their own decisions about when to hold their gaze or when to look away. While we want to be sensitive to the varied experiences of our readers, we also believe that we must facilitate space for our community to share their stories on their own terms without sanitizing or diluting them. James Baldwin’s words ring true here: “Not everything that is faced can be changed, but nothing can be changed until it is faced.” As we recognize October as Relationship Violence Awareness Month, we are thankful for this writer’s creative invitation for us to face the violence that so often occurs between partners. We also invite you to utilize the Sexual Violence Response resources with Columbia Health (212) 854-3500 or to reach out to our chaplains as needed.
V-J Day in Times Square, photographed by Alfred Eisenstaedt and published in Life Magazine in 1945.
Kyle Ena, my sugar mommy
“He is threatened by my birth control decision because it means no more production, especially for his benefit.” —Sister Nzinga
She made herself clear
“Don’t come, or I will never let you touch me again.”
Unfortunately,
she wasn't aware that she was playing two truths and
A lie?
She was once so impressed by his restraint
He would leave her there, at her door, with no parting gifts
His hands snug in his empty pockets
Her hands full of Ankara cloth and champagne
He drew her like one of his French girls
How cute?
She thought to herself,
“Maybe this time, when he says he loves you, believe him.”
So she let him cross the threshold
Into her space, handcrafted by her Mothas
He was unassuming, small for his age
After all, he has so much in common with her father,
She let him in
And, of course,
as he made his way out
He told her he loved her.
I think?
She found him shiny
Chivalry was not dead!
He wasn’t a n****a because he was a man
Her brain was stimulated
His brain was large
She let him be the piece that stayed
Even when she knew she was leaving
Something to come back to
The universe agreed, all-expense paid.
The Study?
He got off to his power over her
Deciding when he can change her life
Because he was so in control of his “accidents.”
He slapped her in the face and called her a whore,
“You fucking slut”
and she pretended that she liked it
Didn’t she like it?
Her body responded for her
She liked how she would never like this!
And he liked that she didn’t have a chance to have a say
He wanted her to feel helpless to his will
But she took matters into her own hands
Leaving Egypt?
She considered not even telling him
But the blood over her eyes mirrored the blood-stained bed
He had the best fuck of his life in there
He even remembers the day
She doesn’t
Him stroking his Power, debating if he should detonate his atomic bomb on her life
“You better not abort my babies.”
Her dreams immortalized in her burned shadow
Devil will not get the last word of my life
Two Truths:
He didn’t stop when she said everything she was supposed to
Isn’t NO a…
Full sentence?
Eye-
You-
Dee
It didn’t hurt like she thought it would
She fainted at this sheer might of its power – No
Her power
Her choice
Her decision
No consequences?
She took away the one thing he loved the most
His power to choose
She planted herself in a room that wasn’t her own
Spilled milk became spilled water
He called her a whore
She didn’t even smile
“I'm not different, I’m just the real me.”
He demanded that she fill his empty pockets
Just so that he can feel something
New Balance?
She was so overcome with power,
For a moment, she forgot she had it
She honestly, truly, seriously did L.O.V.E him
Liked him. Opened him. Venerated him. Engendered him
She liked the real him for his sake
And then, one day, he finally said it:
“I think I should go?”
She cried bitterly
She thought to herself,
“let’s give him a show”
Be subtle in your performance; make sure your eyebrows don’t move
Soak your pillowcases with tears, turn your back away from him to conceal your smile
She is now heartbroken
but free.
Thank you Kyle Ena, you old bag of sugar.