- Erotic Poetry
- Choices
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There's nothing wrong with choices. Who would judge
The Indecision, when confronted, or
Allow me to continue this fucked trudge
That's bound to lead just nowhere? What's it for?
The simplest of confusions? Here, I'm told
That I am rude and need to learn my place?
Before your nasty digs, yes, I'll act bold,
And treat you as a disease;
The disgrace
You'd saddle me with is vacuous flow,
And all your lousy sh*t: accoutrements,
That you installed to make me take each blow,
You would inflict, because...
It so extends
Your vicious sense of control, 'til I voiced
This end to vile encounters - it's my choice...
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