blood is dripping
keeps dripping
like a broken faucet
and you still think
you still fucking think
you can ask her
if it hurts
some men don't change
but would it change
the way
you look at things
if her blood
was running down
your pants
and you still think
you can ask her
if it killed her
even after
you deemed her
voiceless
pathetic man
drown in me
if you must
YOU ARE READING
the forms of all my lovers : poetry
Puisia collection of my poetry. pictures used mostly paintings by cesar biojo 🌟 thank you for reading!
