true. like a monarch butterfly. straight over an ocean. on air currents. delicate. and gentle. loving. and soft. but tough tough tough.

empress of my own shit. not someone else’s. i’m trying to save lives. not destroy them. that’s my job. helping kids more marginalized than myself. dreamers.


that’s four men. 3 with their own wives and girlfriends who nobody will be touching or interfering with. they’re safe. has nothing to do with me. i wrote privately, to one person only, in the beginning. then publically, manic as fuck. i even went to homies crib. 3 times. tortured. he is forgiven. all three are. 2 were abused. 1 horrifically. the other, used mercilessly. the other? he was about to become an abuser of women. but he’s past that. that dream is over. he has a great shield of women. they love him, so much. and don’t abandon anyone. good teaching. anyway, it has to do with the fact that i love them. in real life. always have, always will. and will sacrifice myself to make sure they stay that way. safe. as long as they treat their partners well and support them. no more abandonment. i’ll take the weight of that so they don’t have to. i’m not a big fan of accumulating men or women, or abandoning anybody. and my own future husband. maybe. i may have to die alone. never having been married to a good man who i don’t take for granted. he’s not an american, my ex’s are. but that shouldn’t matter. he is a very good man. and it’s bigger than me. and my personal wants and needs. always has been. smh.

i gotta wire money today. 14th trip to haiti to deliver food to folks more marginalized than himself.

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