not a threat. just a fucking deadline.

look baby girl—
some of you are high-key spiraling
because your little feelings got hurt
by something i wrote in a fucking internet-diary.

good for you.
welcome to emotional terrorism
in the mildest possible form.
a sentence.
a punchline.
a mirror.
lil bitch.

but let me be precise:
this isn’t about you.
fucking relax.
you are not the story.
you are a supporting clown in the background circus
of much bigger crimes.

this isn’t about your bruised ego
or your limp dick energy.
this is about felonies.

real fucking criminalities.

nah, babe—
this isn’t me threatening you.
this is me reminding you
the law is patient.
statutes have clocks.
and i?
i know how to read a calendar.

some of you are out here
living like the credits rolled—
like the drama's done,
like my silence equals peace.

LOL. 🤡🤡🤡

nah.
my silence was strategy.

you thought i was healing?
i was organizing.

you thought i moved on?
i moved jurisdiction.

i don’t need to name names.
you already popped up in the visits like
oh shittttttt—
you think she remembers???

yeah babe. i do.

✶ the hubby–advisor duo?
the one-two punch of emotional warfare
and financial fuckery?
hi y’all!!
nice to see you stalking—
it’s giving allegedly fraudulent
with a side of “lol, is this relationship even legal?”
you girlies really thought you were leo in wolf of wall street,
but nahhh, shit was the goddamn titanic—
full blown disaster,
trying to invoice me for the fucking iceberg.
bold strategy, ladies.
let’s see how it plays in front of a judge.

✶ the east coast predator
you invited me across the country,
fucking terrorized
and let’s be real— commited crimes
against me and my child—
anddddd still have all our shit?
yo—
you’re lucky possession isn’t nine-tenths of the soul,
because i might be coming for all of it.
possibly your 401(k),
your couch,
and your fucking Costco membership.
lil bitch.

✶ the rapist?
baby,
new jersey doesn’t do expiration dates.
criminal sexual assault?
no statute of limitations.
zero. zip. forever.
press charges tomorrow?
or in ten years.
or on your grandkid’s birthday—
depends on my google calendar;

you’re not safe, babe—
you’re just unprosecuted.

👼🏻👼🏻👼🏻

so nah—
this ain’t a threat.
this ain’t some cryptic post.
this is your legal prophecy.
i’m just letting you know
some of you are on borrowed time.

and not in the spiritual way.
in the legal way.

babe.

✶

thought i’d forget?
bitch, i was writing things down.
i’ve got the names, dates, fucking screenshots—

because baby—
y’all earned this.
it’s not petty.
it’s divine retribution.

the rest of you?
pure clownery.
real petty bullshit.
sadboi background dancers.
a little betrayal here,
a little abandonment there.
do i remember? yeah.
do i care? not enough to file.

so y’all
that are losing it over…???
…feelings???
sleep better at night.
go find a new guilty obsession.
stop stalking me.
you are not the main character here.

but a few of you?

oh, sweetheart.
you’re not in my past.
you’re on my docket.

fuck around
and
find
out.

you absolutely fucking
deserve
it
all.

✨ divine timing, baby.