The Frost that saved the Flower …

It is the oldest story told: the man who misleads the woman not because he hates her, but because he is terrified of the garden he cannot maintain without her.

My womb remained a sealed temple because my bloodline refused to be a bridge for a man who would not protect my name, or face, in a room of white people, nor neglect the urge to cheat with local scum and jeopardize this temple’s health. Bitch, that 'unpleasantness' and lack of peace he felt was not my voice, nor my temporary era of inebriation —it was the weight of my lineage standing in the hallway, an ancestral barrier denying access to a light he never intended to honor.

They desire the “Elitism” as a mantle for their trash ass reputation, the personality to mask their silence, and the aura to heal the ghosts they are too pussy to face on their own. 

They are the sons of Adam, standing in the garden of our making, pointing at the fruit they did not plant and claiming the harvest as their birthright. Yes, energy siphoning..

Psychic fucking Vampirsm. 

Like the first man, he offered a serpent’s reassurance while leading me toward a fall.

Btw? huge fucking mistake.