Rape me,
like you did her,
not caring,
if I am your mother,
or brother,
or a random stranger;
Let there be inbreeding,
of oblique perspectives,
and a new generation,
of broken men,
brim forth;
Like froth,
on the surface,
of the crude muck and slop,
we call,

© soulreserve 2015

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *