The Truth About Your Body. Let’s talk Your body is not a taboo—not a shame, not a filter. But why twist your face like rotten eggs smell, When I speak shaka-and-bulous truths? Listen. Why gag the truth when silence kills? Biology without pictures is watered Biography— A text lacking lens, sparks and steeze of conveyance. Cringing at the attached conjuring photo, Then calling it suggestive— Forgetting its the motor, That gives it a finish touch - "Expressive". This is the major reason the girl child d1es slowly because s*x education is not taught even in hospitals. They are rarely groomed with these in schools now because they feel there's nothing there. Girls drown in silence, when their bodies become a mystery— But instead of teaching them to understand their bodies, you make it look like s1n— You shame their fire, call their questions “wild”? Then, when they set loose to explore, you call it untamed— what a world! You deliberately choose not to tell them that urge isn’t evil—it’s power in motion, that can be transmuted. Yet you leave them blind, raw, and stripped of their armor. You ignore showing them "cycles" aren’t curses—it’s science! Withholding their very arms of wisdom, shooting them with whispers of guilt. Your nonchalance brews infections during their childhood while it blooms till adulthood where infertility takes root— Digging deeper into their very core, And then you jump from one pastor to another calling it "spiritual lock." A harvest of pain you could’ve disarmed her. You flinch when I name your hips, your blood, your bones in prints— The fine blueprint of your existence. Shying away from every discussion about understanding how sexuality works and then when the body is on reverse mode— You beg doctors to fix your out-of-place body chemistry… Is this not Crazy? Hypocrisy? Let’s call it a BROKEN MENTALITY. You’re here to learn—to heal, grow, survive. Not every post’s for you, but someone’s alive_ Because when you hit “share,” You lit up a spark in the dark of another. Stop feeling off, because of a post that doesn't connect to you. Own your body. Own your story. Silence dies when you weaponize the truth’s flame. That female in your circle needs this. Your timeline’s a lifeline. If you scroll past? That’s cold. Someone’s daughter, Someone's wife, Someone's mother, Someone's aunt, Someone's sister, Clutches this post like gold. Share it loud. Let the algorithm scream, so that someone’s healing will start with you. This is not Sexual Rebellion— This is Conceptual Reclamation of your Flesh, Fire and Fate. Your biology is a masterpiece, not a debate. #Shakabulous Weekend