Whores of Poetry

I want to be fucked the shit out of my insecurities
Until the beauty of my soul spills onto the cover that I always hide under.
Until I lay there,
Stripped off my flaws lying ass naked in my desirability.
And then maybe I will attempt to take my clothes off.

Some people have fucked my quivering heart until it has shattered
And I’ve turned those whores into poetry.

A deadly combination of words is my something borrowed from an anonymous and Marisa Crane


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