My Mother, the 21st Century

I am the liberated daughter of the 21st century sitting on the table sipping my cafecito while my head throbs. My scent is of fancy perfume contained in a naked woman’s body from the streets of Paris. I wear white to purify, but the pink of my sports bra still shows through. I’m a liberated sexual prisoner getting my fix at any hour of the day. I get pleased and please a little in return because those assholes that pricked my “heart” had it coming. I have nightmares of being broken by sadistic fucks in all of my favorite places, but when I walk through the waking world I stride with a power overflowing my palms. It’s the same power that makes me crazy inside my head while the rest of me floods outward. I French kiss the numbers 2 and 1 as I blow a big fuck you to my audiences as they wait to watch me fall.

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