MY BABY

                  weary , tired , forlorn. mind wide open , eyes red , tongue or a scissor , hand mine pen or sword. but the heart closely shut. emotion a remote companion or is it suppressed in the soul or bloood it is running within me , making me function , survive , smile , reminding of the past. not just the reminders they are though.

                  every evening it sleeps with my mind. fucks , fucks and fucks it too badly giving birth to immature babies of tears. bloody shitty things do not even roll over me. I want my baby to touch my skin , feel me up , caress my fingers , wet my nails , lick my cheeks , drown me my baby within thee .

                    tell thy father to fuck me not so many times but once just once but royally , proudly and giving birth to a good amount of thee. cold you'd be i know but i shall give thee my warmth , if at all it's left within my heart. shall give you my passion if it has been dumped somewhere in the subconscious without my notice . but please i want u to feel me , engulf me in thy chill , want to freeze now , at least then if he fucks me , it would be his pleasure not my pain . to loose i'll be having nothing . my visions merely forseeing the career . visions present absence of sight , look , love. my fingers rove not caress , my heart stiff my body touched . does it actually matter to your dad dude ?

                      don't you want to be born too . born after fucking your ma for such a long span , to die in much less time than that , for......... i do not want my child to be called an orphan . because after thy birth another me will be born . to be happy again , to live not fall  ( in love ) this time.