Side eyes as I slide by, my perfume thick and heady, like my thighs-I am expected to disguise the perfect of creation.
But they don’t get it yet, you see…to them the glory of the mystery is lost in the trees, and I am the forest, the goddess, the moon, and so are they; but shame runs out their vagina each month so they hide in lies and lives that are stories and stories of houses that have only hauntings roaming their halls at night.
And what of the days?
What have you made of them?
What have they made of you?
And what of the ways of the ancient wild women before you? What have you made of them, you soft bellied mute, you tender hearted fuse.
You chose society as your muse; they shushed your screaming from the moment you were born. And now, you shame your sister for her loud, her tears, her fears, her refusal to sit down and be quiet.
When did you become them?
Why did you become them?
Do you remember your right to feel it all, and the freedom of letting one else’s shit go, especially your own?
Susan M. Conway is an acclaimed fiction novelist, blogger, and mother of two. She resides in Northeast Georgia, where she lives a quiet life. In her spare time, she enjoys gardening and cooking for her family. Susan is a passionate and fiery social justice warrior, mental health advocate, and mentor in the BDSM, Kink, and Fetish lifestyles, striving to empower, embolden, and open healthy dialogues about a variety of social issues.
You can read more of her writing at The Ginger Post
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