When I was a teenager, I lusted after samurai teenage boys

Fawning over their dusty ponytail man-buns

I crushed on many; male, female, lovers, friends, predators

Though my third eye was beginning to blink awake

I did not yet fully grasp that we are all one

I craved and chased after a sense of love and belonging, seeking it externally in vain, making-out with most anyone, going further than I wanted to with more people than I wanted to. It seemed like the polite thing to do. That’s the slippery slope of having been socialized as a female- you get conditioned from birth to prioritize others, then spend a lifetime learning to put yourself first, long after the damage has been done.

Now I know that I am one with source, I am a flower in the garden, an expression of love itself

I have been the samurai that I sought the whole time

Love wasn’t in his kisses- it was in my heart

Lust wasn’t in his body, it was in my eyes

My warrior queen eyes

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