Monday, December 5, 2011

Cuntformity Poem

Wrote this in March...how suiting:

Such a plain plague,
indifferent to him now.

Imperfect phase,
you don't even cross his mind,
I don't think...

Possessed.
It is a possession to me,
but you and your toxicity,
changed the important to the fickle.

Love, sex, lost...
just a mind fixation?

Abstain to remain
for him to obtain,
bliss in fellatio-n.

Almost with the same decency,
You fuck with manipulation.

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