raw shit pt.1

we are not your mothers, you have been weaned from the breast of a woman for years yet you come to us, wounded and half filled with promises you can only keep half the time trying to suckle our sense of self dry. we have become much too accustomed to empty beds and damp pillows become much too accustomed to waiting for our empty beds to be weighted down with the bodies of men heavy with the scent and the hands of other women. and we, simply wanting to be loved and to love ourselves unconditionally. simply wanting the truth of whether you can really love us or not play Hester Prin, place scarlet letters on our chests, become adulteresses, cheating ourselves out of what we truly deserve, willing to settle for less, willing to act like a little less than a goddess, willing to sleep with the enemy. men too scared to stop acting like boys. thinking we can love away their scars so we take the lashes of the insecurities that they pour on us and lick our wounds in quiet mourning for the little girls we loose by the minute.