Sit nicely, with your legs closed for the public but when he takes you into his home, bare all of your most precious parts to him.
Taste every drop of him until you can no longer stomach it, be his chef even when you’re exhausted from working hard to stay pretty for him.
Keep your body nice and tight, never give your treasures away to another guy, be his peace, be his light, be his sky.
Don’t talk back when shit gets tough, hold your tongue and wait for your ring, don’t you know there are women who would jump at the chance just to be his little play thing? Be his peace.
How dare you have strength, step aside for him to glow, don’t you know he’s the head of this show. Be his peace.
Abandon your dreams, throw away your mother’s teachings, hide behind the mask he created for you.
Nurture the ego his mother nourished from birth, provide him with every ounce of emotional labor you can give, destroy yourself to create the things he will be able to maintain. Be his peace.
Don’t you hear me, be his peace.
Queen Media Collective 