22 mag 2014


Oh, monster of my reproach,
you scream inside so squeaky
like sharpened nails on my jaded back
you injure my pride so sneaky.

A role reversal I can't tolerate
here in my bed turned into sea;
I am the Priestess, so cozy and alone,
a porcelain whore with a heart fulfilled.

The initiation for the thristy minds
I gave water to, emptying my pitcher
and like water I adapt to everything
and everyone who makes me differ.

I bit my lips until the blood pours out
to prove that it's just another nightmare,
the wheel that turns again too fast...
afraid to disperse, I refuse to share.

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