You drank honey from the hives of my hips,
I drank the poison you dared to call lips.
You will always be my honey,
And I will always be your bee.
I sting and die,
Fighting to protect you.
You belong to me,
Made for me.
Existing because of me.
Yet you flow all on your own.
YOU ARE READING
Woman.
PoetryA book of poems and feelings. A book from a girl, a rose from the concrete. A Woman growing.
