The approach was synonymous with your invitation,
alluring but cunning, inevitably a notable tribute
to the fragrant bullshit you had hidden in the walls.
Never attended the last session of bullshit that you held
at the halls of yell. Too busy preparing for your funeral. There’s
not enough Hail Mary’s to save your soul because once I am
done with you, you are going to wish your mother never gave
birth to you.
You were taking space that others were worthier to hold,
so, don’t mind my obituary to you; never understated the quiet,
observant and sweet laughter for your trappings.
Seduction and sex appeal might have you thinking of your grand rising,
but I saw a downfall at the peak of your release.
After I am done with you, the residue of your cum, will leave you wanting
some more while I am plotting for your execution.
As I commigrated your tribute to others, I sat looking at your casket with pity; as they rejoiced at your philanthropy, I saw the deception unraveling before its eyes.
Enamored by the buzz words of equity, equality, inclusive, and all the damn names, you can seem that you care for the cause, but we all know that is just a front.
Bullshit recognizes bullshit. So. If you want me to air out your squalid mission, all I know is whether you must pay what you owe me in the best way you can. Legality never always sees the fallacies because you should know that you should never bark a tree that you never really vetted from the start.
Reprisal always has its day, and I rejoice at challenges. Thank you for the opportunity to exert my powers as the woman, but I am not done until I lay you to rest. You may gain fame in the eyes of the blind, but darling, there’s no day like sun break. I dream of daybreak but never sleep because I am never done until I get my last laugh.
Don’t ever underestimate the power of the illuminated, gifted, and loved. Therefore, no false spiritual initiation can remove me from my throne.
When I let go and release the orgasm, the pressure is real because I know my validity in this room, but the release is synonymous with your turmoil. You were my sign that I should level up and never look back to the decrypted.
You made me realize the value that I was bestowed upon me, but you made me know that you were an institution riddled with discriminatory practices that no one should entertain, but it’s so ironic that you were an element or the product of the disgrace.
It’s interesting to say, the oppressed becomes the oppressor, and once upon a time, you were a group that was considered the oppressed and never learned from your mistakes that made you an oppressed selected fraction.
In your final rites, the infirmary was a sacrifice you made, so when I ask for what is blessed, it’s an even exchange of sacrifice of blood initiation.
See you on the other side, goodbye.
Copyright© 2022. By Sherley Delia, All rights reserved.
Healing Majestically 