Wandress State Of Mind
Though I run till my breaks hurt
I have loved till I tasted dirt.
And all of the embodiment of a 4’11 squirt.
I have no reason to apologize for all of his lies.
Those caskets are dry to the bone and buried with his dull knives.
People come and go but I still stay me,
I still slay me.
In the control of myself,
I get to know the most of myself
Lately I have been posted by myself,
Blasting Post Malone is better than taking unwanted blows.
Sex used to be an excruciating vex.
But now it’s a spell from my body,
I do not just cast on any body.
My body is a temple.
An example,
Of how a woman should lick her own wounds
Instead of letting goons into her goddamn bedroom.
Dear Daddy’s princess,
Dear John Doe’s bae,
I have something to say.
Hey, try a new part of life,
That contains little to no strife.
Because it doesn’t involve trying to be someone’s wife.
Being twenty-one is so much fun.
And you only live it once;
So don’t be a fucking dunce;
And god damnit, why are you on his arm again,
The night after
He called you
A
C**t.
What?
Slow down.
Take your mentality to my town-
To the streets that are paved by a wandress.
Opportunity in any direction her eye can see.
So start exploring,
Honey bee.
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.
Log in to leave a comment.