You call yourself a woman?
You are nothing of a woman,
You are supposed to be an incubator.
You are built for it.
You get a house
You have a power to make it a home.
You collect ingredients,
And you can magically create a meal.
You take a seed,
And you will make a child.
But what do you do with your man?
Do you multiply what you have been given?
You tear him down, nagging
To him, no matter how hard he tries,
You make him feel he will never be enough.
You fill him with hopelessness,
Because you place your hopes on him
And the barrenness of your soul,
You place before him
As if he was somehow suppose to fill that void
By meeting your unrealistic expectations
And you belittle and emasculate him,
Because somehow that will give you power
Over the powerlessness you felt as a child
Reacting to what your father did to you.
But that time,
Was supposed to give you insight
And compassion for a man,
But you twisted all that horrible pain
Rather than growth.
You could have been such an inspiration to so many
You ignore your vary being
Do you arouse him with your beauty
And sensuous ways
Because he does not deserve your love
But there goes the twist doesn't it?
He already knows he doesn't deserve your love
Its when you give it under these conditions
You not only arouse his body
But you arouse his inner being
You release pure energy into his soul
And without changing your ways,
Is it any wonder he turns to the vices of the world?
He can pick so many to prove to himself he is a man
The world offers work, gambling, pornography, affairs, television, video games
Yes, he has a whole buffet to choose from
As a consolation prize for your love
But he has chose only one
Is an extension of you
And you cut off your own arm
Because of self hatred
Bred from hatred.
Its time to heal my dear.
Its time to let go of the past.
To regain the strength you once had
To first be comforted
So that you can comfort
To first be healed
So that you can heal
Both your life and his are at stake.
I believe in you.
<SI> Scott Izu, PhD
Copyright December 2015