someone didn't tell you
revolutions begin
when excuses end
that ooh-long with your morning tea
made a smoothie of your self-respect
hope it goes down better than you did
there's no sacred text, conspiracy theory
that will decipher your bad decisions
or write over your shame held secret,
that will wipe the memories of mama being abused
from the eyes of a young lion whose teeth are forming
and speaks to an oppression we don't fight:
the fear of being alone with someone you don't love
yourself.
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