Tuesday, October 14, 2025

April 2024 Poem: Nothing Whore; Nothing in Jest

Show me your weakness

Let me run my fingers through your hair

Soothing the aches


Smoothing out lines


Baring my heart


So you can break it again



Each time you come begging


I lower my guard


Letting you in


And you sever my heart


A repeated stab


That I willingly ignore


While you laugh in my face


And call me a whore

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