My femininity is fully in control, with both hands gripping the wheel tight, not letting go as it races into the night. Driving faster into the night as lights flash with each car I pass while looking forward not behind. Burning tire tracks into the road as I mash the accelerator to the floor, leaving my masculinity in the dust. I look in the mirror as my masculinity is nowhere insight, as I race on into the night. With my femininity out in front leaving my masculinity behind to rust.
YOU ARE READING
Twisted Little Poems For The Broken Soul
Puisipoetry and short stories for those struggling with mental health, it's okay not to be okay, and please seek help if you're feeling lost. I will be adding more poems and short stories along the way.
