I don’t profess to be A feminist But a lover of humanity and what can be Liberosis, in the clasps of a tryst, Or whatever woebegone misery the world thrusts upon my heaving shoulders. I don’t profess to hate A patriarch But a lover of equality, equity And all that should be For I am …
Bliss and sweet escape His hallowed lips but nothing Changes what I hate.
When he wonders why I could never love him back; I want to say, “Because I’m fucking sick of you.” And that is really true. The mistake I had made Was not to tell it straight Until it was too late. And he drove me to exasperated shreds, His constant whinging, begging and thinking his …
I never saw it Coming out of the sunlight Glorious mighty flight.
I saw your Soul in your eyes Before I remembered that I was Blind.
He never said much My hands were all that he touched Beneath the black muck.
Despondently yours Pen, paper, ink, they write true The demon in you.
There are days, and then there are *days*. The former, the kind of days one lives, and passes by with the significance of the mundane, the routine, the known, the comfortable. And then, there is the latter *days*. The kind where everything goes right. All because he saw right into your heart, and made the …
Fleur, fleur, joie de vivre The clock strikes one, two, three, dreams Kingdoms fall appeased.
There is a dark thing That leads me to fear our cries My own wrath, it dies.