The Memoir Of Ms. Butterfly

Judge me when you have become a god.
Judge me when you have walked a mile in my shoes.
Judge me when you have facts, not on things you have made up in the head.

I might not be your flavor, but I have been that flavor that many have enjoyed in their lifetime. I might look impossible to you, but that’s because you don’t have the brainpower to figure out how many other ways you could have pleased me; I guess the dick brain is a lot more powerful than the mind that you were supposed to be born.

People should not hate the body that they have blessed. If anyone wants to hate me, hate that I don’t throw my body on anyone. I respect myself enough to know if anyone wants to see my pussy; it needs to be earned, not just given because you throw attention around.

Attention doesn’t using the phrase I love you, for anyone to unwrap my gift. Attention means feeding my mind, soul, and then my body. Be mad at yourself for not having or wanting the capability to get to know you as a person.

Judge me on the fact that I’m not comfortable.
Judge me that I don’t fall for everything because that means I could fall anything.
Judge me that I don’t have to settle for people who see me as an object but as a person.

Ms. Butterfly Genesis