Why We Can’t F*ck In My Room

This is why I don’t let men into my room, into my sanctuary because to them my room is just a place to fuck. A place for me to make them feel good and tend to their needs and when they are gone that selfish and lustful energy lingers

Men don’t see my room as the place I spend my morning rituals getting dressed in or the place where I read to feed my mind and soul, they don’t see it as the pace where I come to cry when life is throwing fucking bullets at me; the hypocritical dudes, the racism, the sexism, the transphobia, hearing the news that yet another one of my black trans sisters were murdered.

I don’t want my space my place of refuge and peace interrupted by some dude that just wants to cum and go home. This is why I offer you my couch, my kitchen, my floor, the bathroom, because you can’t have my bed you can’t have my room. What a lecture right? I’m just complaining, ungrateful and angry black bitch.

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