Kinda wish I could warn you, that I know she’s gonna leave you. It’s not a matter of why or if, it’s a matter of when. I think it might be in June. When she’s gonna leave you. Before her eldest gets her first menses because she’s that bipolar and insecure. And insincere. Soon she will reflect & reject the next step. Eventually the reality will phase her: You can’t raise her You can’t raise her You can’t raise her When you appraise her, when you rearrange her room. Caused your own whispering corner, your own legion of doom. And I, I am the sunshine in your eye, the happy that makes your glad. The cat that stays on your lap, even when you sneeze. And I, am like the wind, a zephyr, an ellipses... to her breeze. Her air is hot but not her passion. Her hair shows you no compassion. I’d walk 500 miles for you. I lied when I was rejecting. I just can’t stand us being apart. My better part, my love, my muse, my music, my art you give your hea
Where conspiracy theories meet feminist theories. (And sometimes there's poems).