December 23, 1998

A hand can cup my shiver when I can’t sit still. A pinch of a kiss in my dreams with a mind that has no personality, if anything it is an extension of my mind, for all these men want to fuck me when I don’t’ want to be fucked, and I’m so much better than they think, with their stupid sticks, they get dizzy on blood with those throbbing filled up sticks, I could give a fuck, I’ll snap those fucking sticks. Along with their red blood eyes…cancerous with their hands on their sticks…a deadly tree that never shades…men I eat whole when they think they have me…I bite through them deadly…giant storm I AM and I rob them of their soul, and snip their little fuckers off…