conversation with Stella

before you tell of the heaviness in your heart it is only natural to want to tell of mine first before you can tell of how brutally you were violated by your mom’s men who peeped through the key hole of your bedroom door whilst you were bathing Fattening their lust losing human status qualifying as demons it is only natural to want to tell first of my little incidents, of hugs i missed from my deceased mother of fear slipping into me every time my stepdad was drunk and of hating everything about school before you can tell my dear of the shock that nearly choked you to death when your mom refused to believe that blood running down from your girly did not come out naturally it is only natural to want to tell first of mean children at my school who ate without guilt in front of my growling belly and threw remnants of their food on the ground for me to pick up and eat like an abandoned dog before you can tell Stella of the roughness of the streets you chose for a home streets filled with hooligans, charlatans, pimps, corrupt police men and women it is only fitting for me to tell first of rage boiling like lava in my chest raging against society that declared you and me human-factory faults –