She didn’t come home to repent. She came home to collect. They said I’d be crawling back. Broke. Hollow. Haunted by the ghost of every bad decision I made in stilettos. They whispered “Karma always collects her debt.” So I let them.
I am not here to apologize for the ecstasy. I am here to remind you that shame is a loan—and I never signed for it. Karma Rx - The Prodigal Slut Returns
So go ahead. Call me reckless. Call me the cautionary tale you tell your friends in hushed voices. But when you can’t sleep at 2 a.m., wondering what it feels like to be this free? That’s not my karma. That’s yours. She didn’t come home to repent
Now the prodigal slut returns. Not weeping into a borrowed robe. Not begging for crumbs off their tidy, judgmental tables. I walk in like a fever they forgot they had. Hips swinging to a beat only the guilty can hear. They whispered “Karma always collects her debt