I will stand on the shoulders of my enemies
To place the angel delicately a top my Christmas tree
Their selfish acts beside mine
Only my acts so deeply rooted by my own ancestors
That they have become a catapult
An explosion of sticky wet truth
Like an orgasm at just the right time
I will not wallow I will not beg
I will not stop until the truth spores inside so many crevices
They’ll never forget it
-Saschia
Yes! I love this one.
Would you care to comment on the title? I’m fascinated by its possible meanings.
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Oops I forgot the title. It automatically generated that one. Lol
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