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Seed of Conformity

By: Tondia Shotwell

Conformity bares no sustenance when it is done within the boundaries of love
For can it truly be called love if one must change themselves to nurture the growth of another’s favor

And if so, when conformity has finally found its home
Planted in the warmth of thine bosoms
Nestling itself in the very crevices whose only company at one time was the underwire of a 36c

How long will it remain

How long before its obscure, oblong shapes force it into a unhurried creep
Eventually making its home atop those freshly shaved thighs
Because no matter how you shift and move them around D breasts will never sit comfortably in a B cup

Propelled into fits of despair, regret, and spite behind the lie you eagerly made into your pillow

Persistent in the journey to conquer this uncharted path toward love
Spending most of your time kicking to scatter the pebbles

While neglegently disregarding the stones that press upon you

Does happiness no longer play a role in a relationship

How can a person of a sound mind come to proclaim real love is no longer a factor of pertinence

Convincing yourself that the debris that filled the void was insignificant as long as you could say that the void had been filled

Until finally you come to the realization that that the debris has given the luxury of more grief than pleasure

More labor than relief

Because in the initial planting of this seed you knew not the extent of the labor that would be required for its upkeep

The constant plowing to provide drainage for the tears you thought would go away and never did

The strategic placement of buckets to catch the newly falling downpour of worry of which the clouds never seem to dissipate

The constant scrubbing of sheets painted with the red of anger you now get whenever you look his way because no longer do you see him as the one you’re willing to do anything for, but instead as that motherfucker who took the hopes and dreams you had,

threw them out of the door

And swept the remnants under the carpet

Your seed of conformity is now rotted and you’re ready to do away with it and him too

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