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Stop looking at me as if I’m some - thing to swallow up or spit out. A berry, black, swollen ready to be chosen for your consumption. I sour on your tongue, assaulting your taste buds because you thought the only - thing that mattered was the purplish black, the juice that produced for your pleasure, my ripe, plump bumps, my green hands outstretched ready and there, for you? Still you pluck and **** and stare and **** me up with your barren compliments stripping my sweet substance one by one by one, you extract it out of me
0
Feb 24, 2019
Feb 24, 2019 at 4:29 PM UTC
Harvest
Stop looking at me as if I’m some - thing to swallow up or spit out. A berry, black, swollen ready to be chosen for your consumption. I sour on your tongue, assaulting your taste buds because you thought the only - thing that mattered was the purplish black, the juice that produced for your pleasure, my ripe, plump bumps, my green hands outstretched ready and there, for you? Still you pluck and **** and stare and **** me up with your barren compliments stripping my sweet substance one by one by one, you extract it out of me
aspen-welsch
Written by
27/F/Ohio
Feb 24, 2019
Feb 24, 2019 at 4:29 PM UTC
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