bleeding is the only opportunity i have,
no one is willing to save me.
so i have to save myself.
i'll bleed out.
be gone for good.
wont be miserable anymore.
i'll be free.
finally

you,
desolate shadow of existence
Sexed up and used by their persistence,
You'r admirations and aspirations
Are the apple cores
Planting seeds in my belly
Despite my resistance.

On of the things i commonly see that disturbs me massively
Is a man wanting full control over a woman
It upsets me dramatically and i would never desire such a horrid concept
I want my girl to be free, as she bows to no one.

People might ask:"Do you ever get tired of writing poems so much?"
My answer to that is: "Nahh"
They're too much fun to watch the ink flourish and watch the amount of written paper grow by the day
and that you took all your grievances away
At least for a short time
before you do it all again