Release
There’s an ease
in release
And I don’t mean fucking…
Or perhaps I do - in part
at least.
It’s the beast we freed,
That choking complex need
beneath
Our quiet selves that never
cease
to cover up our
cocks and scars,
cunts and bruises,
all we want is freedom,
looseness
to remember how to be,
But we’re wound so fucking tight
To break free won’t take one night
You’ll have to tie me roughly;
don’t be gentle,
I’m too practiced -
I’ll dissemble
- in fact I’ll outright lie.
“I’m fine”
You’ll need to disassemble me,
so I remember how to cry.
Release me from being,
please,
It’s why I’m on my knees.