Reflections (Collaboration With Daniel)

Women like you
are lonely.

Loneliness is sudden
and engulfing. A ravenous beast
rushing to ravish you
in the most crowded rooms.

Leering at you on street corners,
tugging at your shirt,
crouching in every alleyway,
clawing from the shadows
at some exposed leg.

Loneliness is the relentless eyes
that stalk you, as you make
your life choices. They aren't actually
your life choices. They're
reasons and justifications to
why you'll be slu t-shamed.

You give birth,
you give love,
you give time,

and they morph into monsters.

Loneliness is knowing that
you’re a work of art;

the kind of art
everyone wants to touch,
and not understand.
Knowing that everyone
would rather bite your lips,
devour your sacredness,
swallow you whole.

Loneliness is the ebbing promise
of togetherness, snatched from
your hands. The voice that
soothes and cradles your
dreams. Leaves
you sobbing on an empty
mattress.

Then, loneliness is
the voice hissing
in your ear:
"there's no room for love,
not for you, at least,
not in this cruel world.”