Queer Contemplations...

She walked out
A sense of freedom embraced her
No bonds to live by
No rules to obey
She steps out for the first time
All of 14...she had seen the world
As she rubbed the lipstick off
Her clothes stained crimson
Freedom had now found a colour
The knife drops from her hands
She runs out
Runs to play with her friends
Runs towards home'
People stare
Mother's pull their children away
She had a mother once
She had friends once
And now that she was free
Nobody even spoke to her
She had sold her flesh
Out of desperation
But her soul remained
Untouched and strong
By the look on people's face
She realizes it was not only her body sold
But her identity snatched....

Voices Rant On...

And with each dying day
I tread along
I see your hand stretched out
trying to save me from myself
I emanate the stench of death
As it grasps my legs
And pulls me in
I stretch out my hand
To Reach yours
It's too distant I say
You bend closer
Trying your best
I get a hold
You shout hold on tight
I'll pull you out
I'll save you
my hold no stronger
Than a hoar's aging cunt
I slip....
And as I sink into deaths grasp
I smile...
Cause I'll wait...wait for my love to die...