Something sexy about the ugly truth- whats real. Don’t pretend for me. I like your brutal honesty.
Don’t tell me what sounds good. I love the stuff that looks like shit and the melody of things you hate to admit.
I trust it. Familiar. The only language I want to encounter.
I dismiss a lie even when its allure is comforting- somewhere along the line they began to repulse me.. Like hiding in a lie was a direct threat- to me and who I need to be.
I can look in the mirror and call on whats real.
I’m a single woman who’s afraid of failing. Who feels the pressure of the need to succeed because I won’t live my life on my fucking knees. Waiting.
For a thing to save her- or a man to love her.
To be a man the way God told me he has designed and planned. Father to my unborn babies- Loyalty, honesty- love that means more than the bullshit I see.
You think my approach is harsh “too much”. They tell me to tone it down and allow a man his right to live underground. No. Fuck that.
Look at what you have been avoiding and talk about what you’re ignoring. Your fear is unbecoming and its life giving to the thing that’s been destroying.