Pull the trigger
I am a fan of the trigger warning
we need to re-sensitize.
evaluate why being raw is being soft and being soft is still inherently…

have you experienced a fleece blanket? why the fuck don’t we want to be warm, fuzzy and cozy.

i love being hardened. don’t get me wrong. i take pride in the asses I’ve beat because I don’t look like a force to be reckoned with. my greatest strength. my samson hair.

but…that’s not where progress and love lay. I love anger. it fuels my mania which I also happen to love.

it’s so strange. love is so volatile. I have always been above love. I had no plans for semen or a penis being part of the building of my family. I genuinely just saw myself emerging from a barn with 6 kids.

Where was I?

All some of us want to do is scream our deepest darkness into the light…and somehow that’s considered airing dirty laundry.

don’t tell me to be open so I can heal, only to close me shut and tell me I’m healing incorrectly. black women, we have been failed. won’t forget my african rehab nurse. walking with me and telling me africans don’t deal with “this”.

I can’t focus long enough to dive into everything.

Where was I?

Ah, yes.

DO NOT LIE TO ME AND EXPECT ME TO LIVE IN TRUTH.