I don't know what good love is.
I know bad love all too well.
Good love is an organism
that has not evolved to survive in my habitat
I can't nurture my soul plants
long enough to provide oxygen
I never had much of a green thumb.
Bad love is the cacti
whose prick feels right at home.
Maybe I'm a desert creature after all.
The first one took my innocence.
He taught me naivety
won't protect you in the world
it is the nectar
that lures the flies in.
That’s when I lost my trust.
The second took my power.
He showed me what manipulation looks like
as he planted a seed in my head
that grew into a voice
always reminding me that I am small
and of the dangers of being lonely.
The third took my creativity.
It crept away slowly
like fall into winter
with each lost leaf
I forgot what the summer breeze
felt like on my skin.
The fourth took my spirit.
His jealousy left no room for her
and she gently slipped away
cynicism spread like a disease
and tore through every light cell.
The fifth couldn't take from me.
I had nothing left to give.
Now I’m learning to bring my own love showers
to grow desert flowers
where I thought there could be none.
So may all the She’s
who had pieces robbed away
help each other build themselves back strong.
May we create a garden sanctuary
where we nourish each other
when we dry up.
Pull up the weeds
And plant seeds of self love.
And remind each other
that pests don’t belong
in our garden.