**** the women
Take the child
**** the child
Take the women
Satisfy your disires
without shame.
Who can stop you anyway?
The women have no power
even less the child.
If everyone hates women
And thinks them worthless
then no one bats an eye.
Nov 19, 2025
Nov 19, 2025 at 6:18 AM UTC
Why do you drag the fawn
Trashing and flailing.
"MOTHER" It wails
But those men do not understand deer
Why would they care?
Because although they recognise the pain
in the fawns scream,
it would be much too inhumane
to drag away the deer's child.
No, they're not dragging the fawn
from the struggling and bruised deer
no, they're just doing what needs to be done.
Nov 19, 2025
Nov 19, 2025 at 6:14 AM UTC
The killer who killed thousands
Had a book
Pages where he wrote
With the blood of his victims
As ink.
On the very last page however
The calm and unperturbed writer
Wrote a poem which had his own blood as ink
He wrote his every accomplishment
And smiled, baring his perfect teeth
But for an ending line
He wrote
“I want to ****
But it killed him to write the last word.
“Myself”
Oct 25, 2025
Oct 25, 2025 at 1:28 PM UTC
I stand on the balcony
Of an expensive hotel
polished glass
Made beds
Champagne sitting eagerly on the table.
I look out beyond the polished glass
into the concrete jungle.
I tell myself,
Polished glass
should never
be mistaken to be non-existent
For there is an absence of wind.
Sep 16, 2025
Sep 16, 2025 at 6:58 AM UTC
You shouldn't expect
A tenderly raised shark
to not bite.
It might not abandon its instincts.
Sep 7, 2025
Sep 7, 2025 at 1:03 AM UTC
It's the most basic of principles
That takes the most reminding.
Sep 7, 2025
Sep 7, 2025 at 1:00 AM UTC
Yesterday is alive in my mind,
The actions I thought meaningful
bring me distress,
I try to repel those sour thoughts
along with the pink in my cheeks.
Is the immaturity of the days forgotten
Really like citrus?
For me to push them away by instinct
To pucker at what was driven by
arrogance but also confidence?
The days you despise never go away
The days you accept come to you
like a chick to its hen.
Sep 6, 2025
Sep 6, 2025 at 9:55 PM UTC
The warmth of cotton is felt,
When an intimate breeze threatens.
Dashes of clear
interrupt the sky.
And its warm palette mixes sombre.
It is sad to look yonder
But to that ball of blue
we lean to.
Because the rain invites warmth,
like how hatred invites love.
It is opposites that refresh.
Sep 6, 2025
Sep 6, 2025 at 9:45 PM UTC
I wish to sit by the weeping willow
And stare at the fields.
Listen to birdsong
and wear a crown of wildflowers.
Why do we have to live so terribly,
In the city?
But I will meet you under the weeping willow
And you, under the hard oak.
Let us braid our hair,
and live in a cottage.
admiring the sombre hues
and the glowing Northern lights.
Because we are poets.
And we live up here.
Aug 23, 2025
Aug 23, 2025 at 6:47 AM UTC
Just like the shore isn't the sea,
What if my mind isn't me?
The personality I unleash,
and the thoughts that I think
are as different as gas and grease.
But what if my mind
is me.
But is pushed aside,
along with its opinions
its thoughts
To be the cause of those smiles,
and pleasure felt around me.
No wonder I,
am so different from me.
The calf that tries to be the sheep,
would be still be the calf
when behind the fence.
And that's enough.
Aug 23, 2025
Aug 23, 2025 at 6:29 AM UTC