Built for the gaze
on mommy issues and trying to navigate through it
I’ve always been told I have “something.” Not just beauty per se — something else. A suggestion. A flicker in the eyes. It’s like seduction leaks from me even when I’m quiet. Especially when I’m quiet. But it’s not mine. It was never mine.
My mother gave it to me.
She used to bring me to bars when I was a child. Not cafés, not restaurants, not places whe…
