The Moon will show you who you are,
She knows your life.
.
She moves with you
like she moves the tides.
.
She is awake while you,
Think,
Cry,
Contemplate,
And sleep.
.
The ebbs and flows,
The water,
Your sacred blood,
they move together.
.
She collects your tears,
and she takes them to the sea.
Where she moves them and makes grand,
unruly, wild waves.
.
Bleed,
Cry,
Let go.
The Moon knows.
Oh little dove,
that inner voice was
you all along.
When there were conflicting feelings
it wasn’t because
you were wrong.
~
It’s okay little boo,
don’t believe what you were told;
that you were born flawed.
That your innermost feelings were a
challenge from god.
~
Hush,
you are not
the meek submission you were sold.
You are funny.
You are clever.
You are wise.
You are bold.
~
My little love,
you are the sun, moon, and stars.
You can build your own ship,
sail long, sail far.
~
And just when the sea seems
too deep, too alone,
it will suddenly take on
the feeling of home.
~
You are held by the water
wherever you go.
A place where you will learn to
love you
and
let go.
Lucky you,
You’re so special,
So chosen,
So important,.
.
.
But I will never find out why.
Not until I die.
.
.
Lucky you,
You are so tertiary that you do not need to worry,
you will accept what you are given in the end and
it will make you happy.
Lucky you.
.
.
Lucky you,
If your husband wants a prettier, younger, wife,
You get a prettier, younger, friend to be forever pregnant with.
Or maybe hundreds.
Lucky you.
.
.
Lucky you,
If you don’t want to watch him flirt, play, and be in love with other women,
You can choose
between a lonely Hell, or a lonelier Heaven.
Lucky you.
.
.
.
The Culture of Being 