Make money doing the work you believe in

I wrote this poem in the solitude of rehab, stripped of every distraction I once used to numb this wound.

For the first time, I allowed myself to be honest about the pain of seeking love from men who mirrored the first man to break my heart — my father.

This poem is for every woman who carries heartbreak from the one man whose duty was to protect her heart.

PART I — THE WOUND “SEE ME, DAD”
May 24
at
8:44 PM
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