Nothing poetic just thoughts

There's simply too many girls in the world and even more sick bastards. Our eyes filled with the shimmer of possibility and out hearts flowing in love and expectations are simple used and left as mutated canvases for so many.

Every female's eyes no longer shine with possibility but instead a hunger and devilish want. Not only do we want so desperately to be accepted by you, we want to be loved by you at all costs. We'd sacrifice our bodies and the bodies of our daughters to experience any feeling remotely familiar to what love is rumored to feel like. We trust you hoping that you can rescue us from emotional war zones filled with predatory specimen that look so like you but instead you trap us in corners and transform us into mental contortionists with no escape.


To: the many friends and acquaintances who've been used my someone they thought they could trust and every female body that feels alien to its owner because of what he's done

Waiting

I've been waiting for someone like this for far too long.
Can't let him get away because I'm nothing without him
My whole life depends on guys like him or so I've been told
His rough and inexperienced hands will mold me into a woman

Make me beautiful I cry from underneath the weight of his--ego
I've submitted my all to him all I can ask for is that he'll receive me
Please release me from my physical prison
make me magnificent beyond all question.
Save me from Individuality

His callused hands bruise my skin and dampened it's glow
He takes me with no remorse or thought
Save me from his creul and relentless embrace
I was everything before him

His body on mine feels like an endless submission into hell
His grip on my hips make me scream
His every glance leaves me in anquish and desperation
My womb is now his forever

Writing

Writing really doesn't solve anything
It doesn't make you call
or makes you suffer like I want you to.
Words of malice, destruction, and pain constructed to ruin you and everything you stand for--
can't reach you
Trapped within the pages of yet another empty notebook
struggling with the truth the pages communicate to me
I could never tell you.
Will you ever understand?
Ink screams and pencil hearts stain the pages in the few corners my tears couldn't reach.
Words trapped within my hands spill unto the one part of my life you'll never know.
They're my only escape from the person you think I am yet my escape is filled with dark, wet pages that really don't solve anything