money (Remove filter)
I've Been Wrung
Lick your fingers
Every last bit
Bend over
Take the hardest hit
Now, burn
And let me watch
Crumble
On the spot
Twist yourself in knots
I want the final drop
Then,
Become dust
Collapse and shed
Until the last sparkle
Of my Queens head
Is spent
Until the last glimmer
Of her glitter
Has bled
You belong to me
I own your soul
That is how
You line
Every pocket
With gold
Friday 18th September 2020 9:44 am
Who is the bully?
Yesterday, I cracked the whip
Over a poor man’s flesh
At his request
Yesterday, I dug my heels
Into the crotch of him
Because he asked
It hurt me to hurt him
But it would hurt him too
Had I refused
The thing about me
Is that I'm not
- Me, I mean -
I'm a chameleon,
Master of masks
Slipping on disguises
Like slipping on shirts
I am metamorphosis
Shapeshifter, am I
With wolf or doe ...
Thursday 10th September 2020 10:15 pm
Recent Comments
Holden Moncrieff on Triumph.
7 hours ago
Shirley Birch on A LAMENT FOR CHILDHOOD
10 hours ago
Auracle on Triumph.
11 hours ago
Auracle on The Post Trauma Session
11 hours ago
Graham Sherwood on FAITH WITHOUT HOPE - OR CHARITY this is a second posting
15 hours ago
Holden Moncrieff on Triumph.
16 hours ago
Flyntland on Easter, the resurrection of man
17 hours ago
Graham Sherwood on OLD SCHOOL NEW SCHOOL
18 hours ago
Russell Jacklin on The Songbird.
18 hours ago
John Coopey on sword or pen?
21 hours ago