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maggie-bartolomePoems
Oily fingers the she-beast moans.  She wanted those Saturday nights Watching old reruns of cow and chicken.  She never got there. She only sank deeper into Her petals.  The Past 1) is of conquest Experiences well made She Still hasn't kissed a boy But she also  Hasnt felt herself.  2) it quenched you to know How much We can **** up in one  Moment in time.  3) her first favorite band Was on a twilight soundtrack 4) ready to present herself To the first naked man She had seen In a long time She opens her robe And uncovers all of her lies. TOMORROW She will wake up in love  The first time.  The past is a liar  The past is A secret Fear.     The future is an unbearable truth.  Not the eyes of mothers, Steady hands of fathers Nor the she-beast Can complete the feat.  Mass suicide sways oceans  Beside the globe.  The inevitable  Shakes it's ******* on National television Through Nuclear war and bitter missionary men.  The future is losing circulation  As the she-beast welcomes a man Into her home The future is like her Well labeled.  The future is a *****  Saturday nights blot at her itchy flesh.  She is finally ready to get up.
0
Nov 7, 2013
Nov 7, 2013 at 1:01 PM UTC
She-Beast
Oily fingers the she-beast moans.  She wanted those Saturday nights Watching old reruns of cow and chicken.  She never got there. She only sank deeper into Her petals.  The Past 1) is of conquest Experiences well made She Still hasn't kissed a boy But she also  Hasnt felt herself.  2) it quenched you to know How much We can **** up in one  Moment in time.  3) her first favorite band Was on a twilight soundtrack 4) ready to present herself To the first naked man She had seen In a long time She opens her robe And uncovers all of her lies. TOMORROW She will wake up in love  The first time.  The past is a liar  The past is A secret Fear.     The future is an unbearable truth.  Not the eyes of mothers, Steady hands of fathers Nor the she-beast Can complete the feat.  Mass suicide sways oceans  Beside the globe.  The inevitable  Shakes it's ******* on National television Through Nuclear war and bitter missionary men.  The future is losing circulation  As the she-beast welcomes a man Into her home The future is like her Well labeled.  The future is a *****  Saturday nights blot at her itchy flesh.  She is finally ready to get up.
maggie-bartolome
Written by
maggie-bartolome
American
Nov 7, 2013
Nov 7, 2013 at 1:01 PM UTC
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