Why did I have to cry my way from the bed to the floor? Why did I have to yell at him to stop to make him understand I was in no place to be fucked from three in the morning, let alone four?
Do most men need tears and pleas of “what the fuck is wrong with you” to ensure that I’m safe at night? You’re a “good guy” for stopping. Great job, you didn’t commit rape tonight.
Did curling up and squirming away to the hardwood floor not say the words I was afraid to say? Because that’s where I ended up as I apologized to keep him at bay.
Tell me how hard it has been to be a man. Tell me more about how “no,” is so hard to understand. Tell me more about how you definitely understand.
Tell me how you’ve been terrified of using words. Tell me about how you hope turning away will make someone stronger not want to make you hurt. Tell me how you’re afraid saying “stop,” will make someone quiet their own sense of adrenaline fueled mirth.
Fuck you and the dick that you bear. Fuck you and the dried tears I pretend were never there. Fuck you for treating any of us like we are just a hole for you to use and toss in the trash like it was never there.
Tonight, I am more than divine. She needs me and I need Her, somewhere where the haze and the night align.
Somewhere where She is in desperate need to dispense all of Her excess light. That place where I am open, I’ll swallow it up, I’ll burn everything I am to have just a glimpse of Her sight.
When the foggy gray tries to build a dense wall between our two worlds, I see Her without my eyes, She knows I’m a moon worshipping girl.
Tonight Her energy will flow through me. Let me in, divine divinity.
She empowers those of us who search for simple truths. The ones who want to be better, She’s talking to you. She’s whispering through each humid drop of cloud, desperate for you to find yourself and live out loud.
Tonight I am breathed anew. I’ll sacrifice my insides to take the light, let it burn, just me and my Moon.
Burning sage filling up my lungs to keep any negative vibrations far from me. The curl of the leaves, the bite of the smoke, the touch of all of my ghosts settling into one-ness within my heart beat.
A flickering flame to lead me away from stray thoughts of all that has been. Spread out the cards, deep breath, let them speak on any truths and all my sins.
A Moon almost full fills the space in between what was and what will be. Bathe in Her healing luminosity. Call it witchcraft, call it lies, let it be.
Burn the sage, read the cards, lift the veil.
Deep breath in… expel it all; deep exhale.
“Hey, beautiful,” more than four times in less than a block. I can even shovel food in my face and you still cluck like you’ve never learned a thing from your mom.
I have to ignore your persistence, your verbal glare. I have to pretend I don’t hear you as I just keep walking and hoping it all ends right there.
I walked home alone tonight and, fuck, if I’m okay with how the men of the street spoke to me tonight. The leers and the soft spoken slurs. You all wanted my dress off as you tried to articulate your sick fucking words.
All the feminism I was told was “too much” is a joke next to the fear that I’ve got. All the “you’re too much of a feminist” rattling around in my brain isn’t too much for the men trying to scare me into giving my name.
You never appreciated the fire I start. The kerosene soaked words, the utter defiance in the face of the dark. You never saw me stare down a predator or slash throats that preyed on my feminine heart.
You have no idea how many blocks I’ve navigated alone in the dark.
Certain things were made for us in this world we pull our energies from.
When we are far and it is lost, it doesn’t change that it was written only for us.
The Cosmos didn’t mistake the map it drew. I am me and you are you. If we drop it, it’s still ours. You can’t unwrite what was written in the Stars.
Don’t let the distance make you feel as though you’re falling away from what you so desperately seek. It will always be yours to keep.
The depth of my soul know the very thing I want most, the very man I want to find, the darkest parts that don’t know how to rhyme. It may just be lost, but that doesn’t make it any less mine.
There may be many inches on the map between me and you. But that doesn’t mean you weren’t written for me, or I for you.
You are adventure. You are wild trapped inside a body. Hazel eyes that don’t know the word “lie.” A steady handed escape.
You are dim nights tangled up in limbs, intertwined fingers and heavy lunged sighs. You are the smoke from the fire that burns my throat, a risk I’m willing to take.
You are hot summer nights under blankets, sweating bodies and shivers down my spine. Staccato breaths and tangled hair; you are Heaven and Hell combined.
You are laughter so wild my rib cage bursts; strong arms to pull me in, your feral side makes me forget everywhere I’ve been. There’s too little talking for there to be any hurt.
You’re a smile so wide that a face can’t possibly sustain the mirth. You’re tan skin and an octave deeper than the sound from the very core of the Earth.
You’re July, you’re August. You’re hot summer Skies and hazel eyes. You’re naked skin on naked skin, you’re every single moment of summer that has ever been.
Little spider with your web, you took so long to catch the flies. Little spider with your web, you think you’re more clever than the lies.
Spin and crawl spin and hide. Hope to catch just one more juicy fly.
Twitch a line, change the length, make it tight to feel your strength. Reel them in, suck their bones, hollow the carcass to feed your soul.
Did you know that bats can fly, they will eat you whole, and alive?
Did you know, little spider, that your web should be in the shadows? Did you think the moonlight wouldn’t show your face? Little spider, you always were one not to use your brain.
Don’t be surprised when bats come ruin your home, eat you alive, it’s what you should’ve known.
Little spider, you wasted a web. Try using your instincts and maybe you won’t look so small and weak, instead.
That little spider feeds the predators because it’s weaves in the open like it can’t be seen. Little spider, so small, so simple, how laughable it turned out to be.
Sing down the stars, my love, bring them close to you. Fill up your eyes and lungs with them and settle into the comfort of the dark.
She builds you up just as She tears you down. The Sky is a fickle thing and she won’t give you what you think you need. The Sky can be a fickle thing.
Inhale that dusty light from the Moon. Take it in, swallow up all of those fumes. Darling, you are eternity and we are all here hoping to catch a little something that makes us feel less like our ghosts do. We are who we are, who are You?
Take this calm settling into your soul, Dearling, take what you’ve always known. You are fire burning up starry climbs and plumes of smoke taking flight, you are of the Universe and it’s okay to embrace your power. Your might.
It’s okay to love the feeling of powerful words, thunderous songs that leave them gasping for a little more air. It’s okay to leave them behind, there.
Pluck each speck of light that spills from the depths of the Sky. She would want to share. You are fierce, Dear, you and the Sky have the same wild hair. You are one in the same and it’s okay to proudly tell them your name.
There’s a pleading in his voice. A sound I recognize from my own. Begging to be wanted. Trying to turn my heart from stone.
There’s a want that can’t be given. A hope that will go unfulfilled. Grasping at air the further away I’m driven.
Funny how they come in droves. The ones you don’t want, don’t need, don’t care to know.
Funny how the ears of Sea drunk men hear only a song they need to guide them through the night. The same men who can’t find their way down their own hall without their night lights.
He doesn’t want to know me. He wants the hope this song fills out all of his emptiness; his ambiguous Sea. Men like him beg to be the only one to which I’ll sing.
It’s funny how they all beg for the same generic over played melody.