we do this all time, tugging at each other's shoe strings
and convincing each other we fell in love...
i think i'm tired of fighting. in fact, i know i am. love is a far greater battle i'm willing to endure but fighting? wounding one another? testing each other's patience to see who's anger will be the victor? i'm not willing to fight the very man i adore. i spit bitter out a long time ago. he's gonna have to hate me in all my beauty because ugly is not a color i wear. and yes sometimes i'm emotional to a point that he cannot understand because he was born with testicles more important than his feelings. but that's me, those emotions are the silk that keep my thighs warm when he's in between them. those emotions are what carries you through the rough days when the world is the only thing darker than your skin. that femininity that doesn't disturb football sundays is the same femininity that reigns peace when you plead with me to fight you back. i will not be one more person to tear you down. you will not become another man to feed me scorn on a silver platter.
first corinthians chapter thirteen verse four.
love is patient, love is kind. it does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. it is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. it always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
there is work to be done.
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