Fatherless Home

For those that grow up with fathers, but are still fatherless.

I grew up with two fathers

One made me his whore, the other one his Madonna.

do you remember when I was small? a lover of Dora and cheese, a toddler when you shot your arrow through my neck, making me a deathbed of hair beads.

i longed to know a man that wasn't there, his bloodthirsty lust, a replacement, an undying contender for the role of father.

I grew up with two fathers

One made me his whore, the other one his Madonna.

remember when I was wild and feminine,

like a raging hurricane?

a flower yearning blossom, when your shame

filled eye became the Sun, and the Motherland

left my hips with one piercing scream?

reminding me I had no rights to my body,

as long as you saw me?

i was just dancing, cuz I wanted to have fun,

not be the mirror you try and run from,

the porn in your mind you try to hide,

the castration of your mother’s tongue.

I grew up with two fathers,

One made me his whore, the other his Madonna.

I made me empty,

Is that why you’ve tried to hunt me?

Too scared to see, too scared to feel,

Too scared to be cracked out of the bondage of you?

I guess motherless children still need company too.

I grew up with two fathers,

One made me his whore, the other one his Madonna.

But I still make me free.