I am not a ride or die.
The answer isn't always yes.
You cannot fill me up by taking care of me
and offer me solutions to my nostalgia,
just to continue your habitual wrongs.
My foolish desire to be yours
does not grant you the entitlement
It doesn’t give you the permission
for what’s mine to be yours.
Mi casa is not su casa.
I learned that just because you offer a light
does not mean its escaping the tunnel I’ve found myself in;
where is the next turn?
Words can speak just as loud
We aren’t taught that it isn’t always the palm of someones hand
that brings you to your knees.
And you’re welcome to bite that hand that feeds you if
the mouth doesn’t reciprocate.
I won’t follow you into the cycling abyss.
My submission doesn't leave the bedroom.