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.

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. Karma Rx - The Prodigal Slut Returns

I let them watch me leave—sequins dragging through the mud, lipstick smeared like a warning label. I let them call it a fall from grace. They didn’t realize: grace was the cage. And I was the one who turned the key. So go ahead

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. But when you can’t sleep at 2 a