As soon as I drop my guard, you penetrate me,
Regardless of past boundaries
Laid there, I was stuck in freeze.
And here you present again,
A young man, an adolescent, adulterer, a father
Aren’t you aware you are hurting your own daughter?
Regardless of blood shed, tears dropped, blood shared
My velvety pink rose was popped
By your lust, by your eyes, a dart through my throat
And you may have died, yet to appear again and again.
Shapeshifting in guises that I thought had lost form.
You’re an alchemist, you manipulate to monetize
You form words and glances that anesthetize
There I go again, shattering to save what is left.
How many times must my open heart be a victim of theft?
You dream walked, you took what was safe.
I was left with nothing but a smidgen, an ember.
My charms, my sacreds smothered until lost.
You’re an ex forester, who pushed and shoved your
Way into that first kiss.
Who woulda thunk our healing would be shrouded by
The opposite of bliss, but abuse repeated and displaced.
And once again, as a woman, I am the ultimate receptor.
And as soon as I am free, you re-appear to me.
In the form of a business transaction, a trade
It’s not my intellect, it’s not my values that you fear.
It’s the fact that if I kept you near, I would conquer the fuck out of you dear.
You think you want this fiery bliss?
The earthy lushness of my body I keep cleansed and sculpted have you think twice?
Oh my dear, a sip of bourbon may shroud my logic,
But even if it for a moment, you will never be my joystick.
You see, capriciousness does not work on us grown.ass.women.
Purging, Cleansing… what have I done to be so careless?
The distinction between shame and freedom merge.
Run, skin brush, sauna, puke, re-swallow, fuck you’re still here.
Left overs from years ago when you first popped my rose.
You re-appear in mysterious forms, until I have the last stoke of hope
I re-enter my feet, and realize I have gifts of each battle alongside of me: My allies that I have learned in the harsh way to not dare to share.
Here I am yet, again. With nothing left but the fiery birth of Saturn to Tara, upon a blossoming lotus ship.
Is it now that I fly again?
Each time you re-appear, you break the fibroses so tough and forgotten.
You rape the child, you penetrate the mother.
When will you learn? It is okay to let her be.
No, you will not. Why did you come here? Oh, you forgot? Sometimes, good intentions are not good enough.
I must forever remain protected and gather my tools.
A shielded shimmery armor of Yarrow is the weight I must bear, to do the work of the air.
Your collective consciousness makes waves.
As do my tears each time you deny my crown.
Independent of the arrows shot, my tears serve as the rebirthing found, Lady Madonna
the solace when you surrender.
Compassion is not learned, it is gently contained and held in the crevices of the feminine fate.
If you take a moment to seep into the dark space, you will see the potential of unbirthed souls in-between each earthy fold.
Silence is your only glory, so stop speaking over our fucking story.
Each word unspoken by us is a loss.
Allow space for us to unlock the crystalline patterns, allow us to flow with nothing but love for our dear Rose.