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Click hereHe wanted to write verses inside me,
With twisted fingers that would make me scream;
He needed to despise my every dream
Reduced to shredded soul; I'd surely be
His, in all aspects, so that I'd seek
To respect all he stood for, which would mean
That ownership by him rendered me keen
On being just his toy: a thing unfree.
But, I am just the sum of squeaked grenades,
And each will rip him more than he can halt;
And more than any girl - reduced to cunt -
Would be, when well-whipped cur finds Sir's sharp blades
Don't measure beyond blunt: this facile dolt
Is shadowed by his reflections as a runt.
I feel the fierce independence radiating from the page as arisingsiren mentioned. Not your usual fare I’m used to but I like to see this side of you!
Verses etched in fire, a defiant soul,
Refusing to be bound by chains of hate,
You stand tall, a beacon in the night,
A warrior's spirit that none can control.
Though twisted fingers sought to break your dreams,
Your resilience shines like a blazing star,
Shattering the bonds that once held you far,
Emerging from the ashes, strong it seems.
A symphony of grenades, each note a cry,
Echoing through the halls of tyranny,
Reminding all that freedom's flame burns bright,
And those who seek to dim it shall not pry.
Your reflections cast a shadow so grand,
Inspiring all to take a defiant stand.
Méli's boyfriend thinks he's in charge
As he fingers her cunt and her clit
But she knows the truth of the matter
As she toys with this bloke -what a twit!
The pleasure she's getting is awesome
Using this bloke to get her own way
He thinks that he is the Daddy
But in truth, he doesn't have any say.
Méli knows that his cock's really tiny
It will never pleasure her cunt
She smiles a false smile as he fingers
And thinks, "Fuck me, this guy's just a runt."
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