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ren Jan 2021
In bottles of Prada perfume,
I am with you.
In the symptoms in my body
That will only confuse my mind,
I am with you.
In a shady grove littered with stones,
I am with you.
Sugar and Cola and never growing old,
I am with you.
C F Jul 2022
Let me be clear,
By the time we first lost a being made of us,
We were basically married,
Or rather bonded as a pair.

It wasn't exactly my overall preference,
But that didn't matter then.

Then I was simply sad,
No.
I was hollow as a puppet,
Moving about to please my crowed into indifference.

You were never indifferent,
Which I appreciated
Yet somehow,
Despite me quite literally handling what could of been,
It was all about you,
It still is sometimes.

I tend not to want to detract from that selfish process,
But some days I find myself in need of reminding you
Reminding you that you are indeed Male
And it was never your body's fault
Solely mine, my own-despite your dramatics.

Leave it to a Male ego to make my issue all about
HIM.
Like he had to wash himself of every bit of waste,
Like every bit didn't remind him how much his body
Simply
Failed to do as it was built to

As if he was in the bathroom with me.
He wouldn't dream of it.
Weak stomach and all that nonsense,
Yet he got a scotfree ticket to wallowing where I could Not.

Lucky, lucky man.

Just leave the gore to ****** Luanne here,
She won't leave, why?
Because she can't.

— The End —