Letter To My Daughter


United States
41° 47' 16.152" N, 71° 23' 39.5268" W

(poems go here) No matter what he tells you. .

The key to his heart is not locked in the space hanging between his legs.

Pick your head up little girl.

You should be meeting eye to eye,

Not penis to mouth.

Spit out those filthy promises he’s breaking you with.

Baby girl

Remember that your lips,

Are used to create words,

So don’t be afraid to say,


My dearest baby,

Rest your head.

Tell me if you can hear his heartbeat..

My darling is he visible?

Do you even see him there?

Mold your hands around his heart,

So that you know he is real.

But if he ever appears as “Dog” to you,

Do as the signs say,

And “Beware”.

Use your fine legs that mama gave you to walk away

if he ever defines you as


“Whore” or


And if he grabs your hand and says

“Touch this”

Baby put up the other one and say

“Fuck this”

Don’t you ever let a man in control of your body.

Mama did not pop out a puppet.

You do not walk around with your strings still attached.

Cross your legs in that dress,

Little girl,

Your top should remain on

Until we,

have that “Talk”

because your body is sacred.

So if he loves you like he says he does

He should imagine you in a wedding dress,

Not banging your body up against his ashy headboard.

Baby,. .

Seek that every kiss is special,


On your good days,

And your bad.

Your happiest,

And when you feel,


Make sure that he sees,



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