… nature versus nurture—innately born or (in)advertently made to be the person that you are; the basis of most issues riddling discussion boards world-wide. The scientists are scrambling to prove that despite the complexity, the inner workings of the world are quite simple and the activists are well aware of their amendment rights, manipulating words and emotions to prove a point.
The list of arguments that kick start from this preliminary concern of born or influenced goes on and on but there are more still that are simply black and white. Either you’re born being and knowing or you have to learn how.
Love is on the nurture side of the spectrum. How to love and be loved must be learned, practiced, perfected. Love, in all of its sensations, is reciprocal and the ability to do so is oftentimes contingent on the love we receive and witness. It may not be mirrored exactly, but there will be a direct correlation.
I’ve been the girl in this piece more than a few times in my life and in a world of different capacities. I haven’t necessarily lived this story but, often enough, I’ve been stripped of love and afforded love, in different degrees than I felt was deserved, to know that the effect is all in the same …
Party Girl
Her mother left
just around the time when the boys started knocking
when her hips began to spread
and her lips begged to be kissed
She would dance with boys at parties
trying to stay in rhythm
as their boyhoods pressed against her
feeling something like security
She never noticed the walls they leveraged their backs on
She would get lost in the moment
The bass shook any fears she ever had
and the heat
the heat made it seem
like everyone was having a good time
Those basements were the only places in the world that mattered
And the music brought them all together
made their problems
melt into the floor they danced on
filling the cracks
with confusion and anger
They danced
waiting for a fight to break out or the DJ’s last call
whichever came first
No matter the cause of the party’s end
she would wrangle her conquest for the night
and she’d fuck until it felt like love
because at the end of the day
that’s all she was ever really looking for
the only thing that was ever really missing
