Wednesday Writes is my new series which is where I share a creative piece of writing. Today I decided to share something short and steamy….

Is My Dress Too Short?

I am in front of your building


In a dress so short, the wind caresses my thighs

You turn the corner to see me

A slow smirk spreads across your face

Legs, hips, chest, and finally lips

All the places you look before you land on my eyes

Its funny how that particular look would disgust me

Yet in this moment, I welcome it

My wine stained lips purse in anticipation

Of our next move

The door creaks as it opens

You follow the sway of my dress

Words begin to spill out

I look at you

Somehow you never finish your sentence

And my heel clicks as you reach for your keys.

“Hurry,” I whisper.

The collision of my back and the wall

Signal our entrance

And in a moment’s notice

My dress slides to the ground

But as I write this I remember this never happened

So I guess I should ask,

Should we make this reality?













Here it is! The first in my series of Marquita’s Messy Mondays, where I discuss something that happened in pop culture in my witty voice (lol).


Sunday night was too much for me to handle.

Who knew I would wake up to be STRESSED at all the activities that happened last night at MTV VMAs?

So here is what I learned at 6am on Monday morning:


  • Beyonce took up 15 minutes of the VMAs, killed it, and I teared up to be honest with y’all. She performed the poems too….
  • Rihanna wore the coolest (kinda weirdest) outfits, was gorgeous as usual, and won an award
  • Teyana Taylor. Girl. Chill. But also don’t chill.
  • Iman Shumpert, you blessed.
  • I like Ariana new look. Its cute.
  • Why is Nicki still with Meek?
  • Following Rihanna’s snapchat is the best choice I have made in life
  • Also Kanye might not be so crazy….


But the HIGHLIGHT of the night was Drake professing his love to Rihanna.

Now this isn’t just important to me because I love Drake and adore Rihanna.

This is important because this union is honestly a very healthy representation of a woman running thangs.

I know all of you are like “Marquita, how are you about to pull this argument off?”

Stay with me. I promise I won’t take long

Rihanna or Robyn (as I call her) is the epitome of the carefree black girl. She walks around wearing whatever she wants, looking gorgeous as hell, got all her best friends a job, and is hard working. She about her business and she doing a damn good job. Girl got eight albums, outselling tons of artists, and most importantly, rock a new hairstyle each week. And her clothes, y’all, her clothes. I have pictures of her outfits saved just so I can recreate them.

RiRi fell in love and was abused by the one who she loved. She went against everyone’s wishes and tried again with Chris Brown because she loved him. I mean how relatable is that to people? Rihanna feels like a tangible entity and she thriving.

Drake. He is a lot but I am about it. Drake is out here in the strip club with girls, trying to save them but also being extra. Rihanna and him have this on and off thing and I have always supported it.

But last night was important because Drake said he loved her, Rihanna blushed, he went in for a kiss, and she curved him. Honestly I don’t even need to know if they are together for real or not because my life was made.

This woman has complete ownership of herself. She curved Drake on stage because she can and then she took pictures with him and her mom 5 minutes later. These are they type of images we need for women. We need authenticity. These are goals.

We will  always wonder if Rihanna loves Drake.

Or if Drake was doing that thing men do: lie.

 Either way my life was made last night and now I know going to bed and being responsible is the wrong thing to do.


In Case You Didn’t Know: Rape is Wrong

Rape is wrong.

If you don’t agree with that please go to the top of this page and click the exit button. Thanks.

If you are still here, I am infuriated/disappointed with the defenders of Nate Parker right now. For anyone who is not up to date, I am going to give you a short summary.


Nate Parker, an African American actor who has starred in many movies and is an “advocate” for black people, raped a woman. He and his friend, who co-writes with him, raped a woman. They raped her while they were college students and then harassed her for reporting them. Nate Parker was found innocent because he had consensual sex with her prior to the assault. His friend was found guilty and then the case was dropped because the victim did not want to testify again. The victim was traumatized for the years following and eventually committed suicide a few years ago.  

Okay now that we are up to speed, here is my rant.

For everyone supporting and defending Nate Parker, you are truly misguided. He raped a woman and then harassed her. There are reports and witnesses that saw him harass her. She could not finish her degree due to the harassment. Penn State gave this woman a settlement after she sued them because they handled the situation horribly. She attempted to commit suicide two times before she succeeded.

She is deceased.

Nate Parker and his friend, Jean Celestin, destroyed this woman.

They destroyed her. So forgive me if I am seething with anger because people are defending this man. Rape is a common crime, yet it is so hard for people to believe a woman when she says she has been violated. I have never experienced rape, but I can only sympathize with the idea that one’s own body is the site of their pain. That when you touch yourself, your body is somehow a crime scene and a sight of supposed eventual healing.

But the rapist is somehow the victim. They are the victim of time and place. Of misguidance. Of one too many drinks. They didn’t mean it. It was a painful time in their lives. We have to let them grow from their mistakes.

This brings me back to Nate Parker. Now, a few days ago he was interviewed about this rape case. He said things like “It was a painful time.” “I now have a wife and five children.” He acted like a guilty man. Because he is. Then he had the nerve to write a post about his innocence while acknowledging this woman’s death….

I read the court documents and a transcript, because I wanted to do research. They were deplorable. I mean I don’t understand how they weren’t found guilty. But then again this is the American justice system we are talking about. Here are some links:

When I read that Mr. Parker was proven innocent because he had consensual sex with the victim before, my jaw dropped. Having consensual sex once does not mean it will always be consensual. Please read that sentence one more time. This is how rape can occur in relationships such as marriage. No one in this entire world has FULL control over your body but you. So yeah Nate Parker raped this woman and then in a phone conversation tried to convince her she gave consent. He got off. His friend eventually got off too. Literally and figuratively. And they were both allowed to flourish and live their lives.

Let me remind you. She is not living.

I don’t care that he has been in lots of movies. I don’t care that he is talented. I don’t care that he wrote a movie about a slave revolt. He is a rapist. And for the black people who are saying he is a black man and we should still support him because he doing great things for us…nah. I am a black woman. Those two are inherently intertwined. My womanhood is my blackness and my blackness is my womanhood. Nate Parker isn’t doing anything for me, because he doesn’t respect womanhood and therefore he doesn’t respect my blackness.

I am not going to watch his movie.

Because every time I see him on a screen I will think of the woman who lost her life due to his violent act. The victim who wasn’t sure if she was pregnant. The victim who kept asking her assaulter questions that he couldn’t answer. I will think of the women I personally know who were violated. And I will cry and be angry because his narrative and many rapists’ narratives are still prominent. People are arguing about him and what this will do to his career, but rarely talk about the victim. Some news sources are calling her his accuser. I cannot with this world. We defend murder and rape. We protect the famous and discard the future.

Nate Parker is a rapist.

He has a family, writes, acts, preaches about blackness and….. is a rapist.

He is not the first nor will he be the last.

And this conversation will just continue to tell survivors that they live in a world that doesn’t support them. Some will choose death like his victim and some will fight on forever scarred.

Rape is wrong.

That is a fact.

Why is there always a “But…”


Milk: A Realization

I used to think that riding carousels and running down beaches was going to be the sign of my love for you. That it was gonna be snippets of bedtime stares and you bringing me roses each time you saw me. And that without a doubt in my mind I would know I loved you. I would feel it. My smile would alert the world. It would be obvious and enviable. And you would return it.

Right? Isn’t that what it’s supposed to be like? Just you and I in our own world?

It didn’t happen that way.

I started craving your presence when I was folding a navy long sleeve t-shirt. I went to go get a carton of milk and thought you would tell me to get 1% instead of 2%.

I bought 1%.

One morning someone told me a story and in it one of their friends had your name. I found it difficult to remember the end of that story.

The title of a book made your face flash before my eyes, and then everything was blurry.

The woman who handed me a tissue realized I was crying before I did.

I saw you in everything.

The book I was reading.

The tv show I was watching.

The dog that was the same color as your dog.

The milk I poured in the eggs I made before work.

And my writing.

But unlike I thought it would be, it was a sad day when I realized I loved you. I had every doubt in my mind. I didn’t smile. It wasn’t obvious and for damn sure it wasn’t enviable.

And you didn’t return it.

I used to think that riding carousels and running down beaches was going to be the sign of my love for you. That it was gonna be snippets of bedtime stares and you bringing me roses each time you saw me. Yet it was the need for you to be with me in the moments I was most alone that I realized I loved you. I wanted you for the mundane things in life. I knew I was stuck. I would always care about you.

What a tragedy that I didn’t tell you about my love before I sent you away.

I am going to get milk today.

I will buy 2%, this time.

10 Things I Learned In A Week


I am sitting here sick and tucked into bed before 9pm on a Friday night celebrating the end of my first week of work! Woooo! Party! And while most of my blog posts are creative pieces, this one is more of my own musings and lessons I got from this past week.

  1. The first job you get out of college does not make or break you or decide your career. I knew this for a while but this week affirmed it. I have been doing enormous amounts of research and something I keep seeing is that a person’s career is filled with twists and turns. You can be in finance and then become a record producer. In order to make it happen you need to work.
  1. Wherever you work hired you because they believe you can do the job. Sometimes that is all the motivation you need.
  1. I can still look up amazing quotes while working. This job is meant for me.

“Writing can be lonely but it’s a wonderful kind of aloneness.  I often reach a point where the world I am creating seems more vivid than the world I occupy.”

                                                                                               -Hanya Yanagihara

  1. Kindness is everything. Some people have said to me in the past they hate the workplace or internships because they have to smile at everyone and it feels false. I totally understand. I mean how many times can I smile at the woman who always seems to use the bathroom at the same time I do? I don’t know how many times, but people remember those moments and when I need that woman for something my smiles will go a long way.
  1. The world of education is so fascinating. Its more than just sitting students down and teaching them. It is so complex. I cannot wait to learn more.
  1. On that note, I am learning everyday.
  1. I have officially become “boring” in the span of a week. I wake up at 6am everyday, go to the bathroom, get dressed, and eat a bowl of Cheerios. I look in the mirror, contemplate wearing foundation and decide not to wear it. I end up just doing my eyebrows and wearing mascara. I catch the same train and arrive at work early. I leave work and come back to watch tv, think about work, and go to sleep before 12am.
  1. (Look at #7) I love it. What you may call boring, I call being stable. And after four years of different schedules, dorms, and sometimes friends, it feels good to predict my next step.
  1. Everyone asks for help. Even your boss and if they don’t, you should be worried.
  1. I know that despite the natural hierarchy that most offices and businesses run on, my youth is not a hindrance. And I am not afraid to voice my opinion. I have enough faith to know that my being comes from a unique perspective that no one else has. That alone makes me useful in ways no one else can be.
  1. Success never happens overnight. (I know I said 10, but hey, you only live once!)

Needless to say I am content and I am excited to see what is going to happen next.

As always, I will find time to write.