Escaping Kewchie World

I struggle with this. Being groomed for sex culture at 9. Which has caused so much delusion in my life. Naive and sensitive will have you ate up. When you've been thrown to the streets as a little brown girl. Regenerating my innocence that jumped off the porch by 12. I was never ratchet or ghetto. A bit hood with edge. A rebellious free spirit with the angst to match.

My inner youth now healed. I rage to protect others like me from the demons and stigmas of being a "fasttail". The haunting chants of rap lyrics laced with sobs. I bet you can hear. If played backwards. Deliberate debauchery instead of sacred femininity.

How disgusted and unwanted I felt as the Women I longed to cling to told me to hit the corner or pole. Not holding me. Just calling me damaged. Not seeking revenge. As I planned. Hip-hop became my voice. The harsh lyrics and hard aesthetic. Spoke to me in ways no tough love could. Grooming holds a spirit that preys on the young. It's selfish over indulgence mystifies those cradled in poverty. Grooming cooks up poisonous treats.

(I know they say I shouldn't be here. But I keep showing up.)