i wear it upon my sleeve
flaunting to the pretty
dolls on the street
dragging them by the
cuff into my room
laughing maniacally
pouncing onto delectable
innocent kuebiko
licking chafed lips
cracked veins shadowing
an organ simpering
orgasm slicing
past the dainty wrists
home to a dozen paper cuts
melting into the pots
of leaking blood
dripping cautiously
from the rufescent decoration
upon the sooty hanger
stroking the insides
of my public identity.
~ fuckgirl
YOU ARE READING
acheful
Poetry❝ the town was paper but the memories were not. ❞ an anthology of poems written during an inexplicable journey of friendship, hope and forgiveness called life.
