Sometimes I feel like I should slap the **** out of the next man who says he loves me.
Not during *** either
A slap for pain, not pain and pleasure

Hindsight is showing me a hallway of all the men who said they loved me
Under each frame is a heart
Under each heart is a list of the fuckery they brought to the table
The fuckery I accepted
The fuckery I said was okay because I loved them too

I believe in loving unconditionally
I'm starting to feel like that means hurting freely
It's like opening my rib cage, exposing my heart and letting out all this love in the middle of a war zone

Gotta be real
I'm not a ******* Care Bear
My love stare has been known to tame the vilest of monsters
But over time, the release of my love changes nothing when they have no respect
When they are mad
When they disregard my feelings
When its over

To the next man who says, "I Love You, Candace."
I say to thee, "*******!"
Watch out for the hook