Is love…to be unloved leads to being unloving which lends itself to being unlovable.
The unloving latch wicked teeth onto the teet of a missing maternal society; sucking dirty nutrients from her battered breasts.
He studies her love but fails her testy trips he cries but she has no more milk to give; she’s poisoned it with pursed lips and don’t give a fuck muck raking, constantly mind raping. Later in life he tries taking refuge in new wombs, rooms without a view finder; a reminder of lost in spaces, he embraces himself and braces himself for rejection by deflection through erections. I blame apathetic mothers, I’ve discovered that I no longer want to tip toe through the sagging tits of your shitty attitudes, you’ve given birth to rude interludes while the band marches to grave melodies of felonies and misses demeanor is meaningless.
She means less to him than you’ve given to him because he has nothing at all to give.
You murdered his mind in kind, he’ll kill just to live.
He’ll kill all that he touches and such is the cipher you’ve cycled into court systems and prisons; a multicolored prism reflecting grey days and eulogies. His life dependent on your skills of survival.
The unlovable are dead on arrival.
To be gifted with life is a privilege not a right, you have no right to force a fight from a child seeking the freedom to be loved.
You must remain above the fray; giving your love away without a hint of reserve.
Only then will you receive the love you give and we a world deserved.
Be the light.