Woman Numb from Nostalgias Wounds

Woman Numb from Nostalgias Wounds

Her eyes screamed
“I wanna feel something,” as she laid lifeless on her back
Her adventures from room to room, trotting in her flats
No one knows her pain, they just see she lives with a scratch
An addiction to sex and an affliction from crack

She’s judged and looked down at treated like a peasant
But no one bothers to ask what nostalgic incident impacts her present
What ever happened to this woman that made her lessen
What hand did life deal her? What was the story of Gods lesson?

Was she touched by an uncle?
Or treated like shit?
Did she struggle in schools surrounded by teachers that urged her to quit?
Or was she blamed for the divorce?
The reason her parents split?
And pulled between the two until she couldn’t get a grip?

Her reality became really engulfed by the drugs
Her desire to feel something, fighting off Gods tugs
Fighting off street thugs
Lighting up wet, smoking with deceased lungs

No idea do we have of where she’s been or where she’s going
All we know is that her profession is the auction of her loins

Confessions to the congregation and the pastors don’t help
All they do is turn noses upward and spew scriptures about chastity’s belt
And how Mary Magdalene got saved and how she needs Christ
But no solutions about how else to feed her children each night

So instead she says fuck it, leaves the church in the past
Ignoring the poison in her veins because it makes the pain move fast
Heroin holding her back from being a heroine
Heralded by men because her vagina is what they find solace in

And in the end? Her reputation is nothing
But she sleeps well at night
Her mind at ease from her sins
Because she does what she does to provide for her kids

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