I’m such a pussy.

  • Trigger: this piece of writing may contain descriptions of pregnancy/birth that might upset women who may have experienced health complications before during,after their pregnancy. As well as women that might have struggled with contraception


You know what I’ve come to appreciate about being called a poes, a cunt, a pussy? As much as those three words are seen as derogatory, I think we give too much talent appraisal to those that use them to describe people as vaginas- way too much attention for their lack of verbal athleticism and ability to cause some sort of offense. Vaginas are awesome, they are though! I’m writing from personal experience here: I watched as an infantile human being Simone Manuel-ed her way out of my vaginal cavity to join our struggle in the wasteland. Till this day, this ever loving muscle of a deity, still without fail, manages to listen to my mind and give me unflinching rolls of pleasure, it still has the power of a python- relentlessly holding tight to its prey. My pussy like many others out there in the Aether has been through a lot. It’s forgiving, it’s self cleaning, it’s in tune with how the heart is doing and sometimes it refuses to be used and abused besides better judgement.

Recently I got sick, I got really sick. I had stomach cramps, an aching body, body chills, headaches, fatigue, whining and a fever that made those around me actually worried that my name wasn’t only my name but maybe used to describe the fact that I’m an actual IRL Phoenix about to spontaneously human combust. No jokes! People were telling me about their lack of fire damage cover, totally changing seats on the bus because “ not today satan…not today”. The ill was strong with this one. So began the medical investigation as to why this was happening, we found out it was a tough infection called septicemia, something to do with blood poisoning caused by some internal wound that needed to be pointed out. I went to the dentist as I had been having issues with a tooth recently, I braved the the thought of again saying “aaahhhh”, ready to accept my fate even if it meant having a piece of my gum sliced out- ala root canal. Our efforts were met with disappointment, we had interrogated the wrong suspect. We moved the case forward, determined partly due to the fact that I was sweating so much with fevers, that I would wake up in a puddle every morning and toss and turn like a kebab at night .

All art by artist Sit Haiiro’s Noir and Haiiro series

Our next suspect- now this one was one shady bad ass, we had heard about her in the streets, women everyday had horror stories, some said she was cool and she allowed you to live stress free without the tedious clutch bag of hormones and side effects. The IUD. Now- this poes poetry I’m laying down here is not a anti-contraception advice column…I really am not a doctor and can’t advise on topics involving your cunt conspiracy theories. I had an IUD inserted shortly after I gave birth. When one acts as a conduit of human life without any medical pain relief and even with, one is not in a hurry to board that ship again anytime soon. I didn’t want hormones for contraception so I opted for a IUD which is like a physical stop-nonsense/blocker that prevents sperm from entering the club of procreation. I knew my club was closed for business, no more cool kids on the guest list. It was only open for events and functions. The pain and sickness continued and I thought about what other symptoms I had, I decided to go check if all was good.

I booked an appointment with the pussy doctor that placed the device in and soon I found myself on the table legs up, lubed up and ready for the forensic expert to finally tell me who-dun-it. She did a couple of tests, checked if I had opened my cunt-club to a few VIPs (layman’s terms: being with child once more) without intending to, you know, the usual.

It turns out, my IUD had done a twalatsa(a dance to the left and the right then the far left again) towards my bladder and had basically cut into said bladder leaving a wound. That wound had not only caused a dangerous chance of cutting my bladder open but it had caused my whole cervix to get pretty upset. It caused the sudden rough infection, it rang the alarm. My gorgeous yoni was not afraid to ask for help, that’s how awesome she is. I had another one put in because: pregnancy and that too hurt like mofo( way better then the pain of giving birth doe). I conjured up 2 orgasms by playing my Spanish guitar which works better than 600mg of ibuprofen for pain relief, I know this from period pains.

Here’s my point, if anyone is under the impression that being called a poes, a cunt, a pussy is an insult they are absolutely wrong and in denial. This premise is not new. What’s new is I’ve figured out why they would do that. They need to claim that another has no strength, bravery or toughness because they themselves wish, in their deepest subconscious that they had those exact characteristics to ask their mamas if they can crawl back up their vaginal cavities/yonis and get away from this scary scary world that requires affirmations of being rocked to sleep and being fed through a tube by food filtered through the tree of life aka the placenta.

It’s a cold cold world out here, the warmest safest place your ungrateful ass has ever been, is the upstairs of a cunt just like mine.

All art by artist Sit Haiiro’s Noir and Haiiro series

check out this blog by Lady Skollie for more pussy power: http://ladyskollie.tumblr.com/page/11

Go deeper into the rabbit hole and give this a viewing and a listen Rub by Peaches: www.youtube.com/watch?v=WyL5ABXltW8&list=PLe5FVypDef4YA5GkTPjoiD7ZrrTLK2lsH&spfreload=10&bpctr=1479554451