An OG Composition From Yours Truly! Please Enjoy!!

Push - Ups

Born & raised in Paris,France. I also speak fluent English some German and Italian. I am a singer, song writer,Producer & keyboardist.
Email: dominiquesoto14@gmail.com

It’s January.  Just over six months of marriage.  His demons sent him to hell and my bleeding heart brought him back.  I thought he’d have, some consequence.. but the pressure, of not betraying him.  Even though he altered my face.  I wanted to be the love he needed from me.  The love I vowed to give, until I die, almost at his hands, my brain was scrambled by the gymnastics.  All I knew was I loved him - the pure him.  Things started well.  Our sex was always earth shattering.  Perfect fit.  Our laughter was there.  The first thing we did when we reunited was pray.  

But within one week he started slipping, away, again.  It’s like stress or drugs or something splits him and I’m both his solution and his enemy.  Scary.

He started slipping and my cortisol jumped.  I got healthy while he was away.  My breasts came back.  I could, eat.  Now back to losing weight, always dry, avoiding him while also holding hope, always stressed, always, afraid.  Already trying to heal from being, beaten.  My high as hell pain tolerance, tapping out.

I tried to tell him bye that day but next thing you know I’m cooking him dinner.  I just don’t want him to be mad at me.  Smoking to numb, put on a happy face.  Searching for the joy I know we have.  But I’m tense.  I just want him to hug me.  But I don’t want to ask him for a thing.  

Cortisol racing, I fuck up the pasta.  Pasta.  I put the drained noodles in the sauce instead of plating the pasta then topping with the sauce.  I diluted all the flavor.  I’m scared to admit it.  I don’t want to give him any reason to be disappointed in me.  We sit down to eat and he’s being nice.  I know he doesn’t like it.  And I’m embarrassed to admit I’m just so nervous around him I wasn’t focused and I’m so sorry I didn’t do it right. 😓

He moves to hold my legs.  We’re making out.  Runaway is playing in the background.  I feel the weight of everything I’m feeling.  Runaway like it’s telling me what to do.  But I’m kissing him and while his love is dangerous, mine for him is pure.  Little tears down my cheeks and things heat up.  I’m high as fuck and sad and malnourished and scarred and scared but I start giving head.  I can tell my mouth is dry and my stomach drops.  I’m too embarrassed to ask for water.  I don’t want to give him a reason to be upset at me.  He just recently decided to be honest that my head looks good but doesn’t always feel good.  Funny to this day he’s the only man I haven’t gotten messy on.  The only man who gets me high and makes me stress dry.  He walks away and I get defensive.  I just need water!  Why don’t you take care of me?  Why is it my job to take care of you and me? 😓 

We settle down and cuddle on the couch.  He’s brushing up on my neck and I tell him to stop.  Sometimes I get body hair there and I don’t want him to find another reason to put me down.  I nervously tell him I don’t want to have sex tonight.  I nervously open up and share my body is tense and I need to connect, to heal things with him.  I don’t nag.  I don’t demand.  I don’t go on and on or repeat.  I’m just, a woman and I don’t feel safe.  I don’t feel safe.  I can’t bloom. 😓 

I get into bed fully clothed.  He spoons me.  I feel comfort and like this is all I need.  Then he reached down my pants, pulled them just under my ass, pulled my hips up and mounted me, barely five pumps and he finished on my ass.  I lay there, my scarred face, silently devestated.  He gets a rag.  I’m limp like a doll.  Wiped me, put the dirty rag down my pants, pulled my pants back up, and laughed.  I never face him, pulled it out and threw it on the ground. 😓

And I promised myself.  With every ounce of energy I barely had left, I promised myself.  I would never be alone with him again.  I’m dying free.  Runaway.

Good Buddy Worx (formerly known as KNATE) is an ’80s-born Hip-Hop aficionado who turns a lifetime love of music into beats, bars, and bold sonic textures. Raised on a genre-bending mix of sounds, I create music without boundaries—bridging influences from across the spectrum.

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