Garage Sale

I know I should feel something

(a thing any thing)

but I am empty on the inside

(for he lied and sighed as I cried "why?")

as he fills me with his dick

(the prick is sick)

in a misinformed attempt to cleanes his own sins

(from within)

he rends from me my virginity

(the sactity of serenity)

obiterating my innocense to the size of his self esteem

(a steam it seems can deem my dreams)

the tears mix with my virginal blood

(in a flood covered in mud)

spilled over the tainted sheets of a seedy motel room

(he assumed my womb's doom)

where a thousand before and after will meet misogyny

(you see will be my fee)

in a failed attempt to be a woman

(covered in semen from a man)

in a world which only wants to subjugate

(and fill with hate from a certain mate who'll make me late)

and treat me as a girl forever

(and never endevor to sever his lever)

with pig tails and parochial uniform

(is the norm of a form of torn porn)

which makes him push me harder

(and farther inside her garter to martyr that part of her)

to kill the creeping morals cutting him

(his whim for sin within pinned by gin)

the pain of him inside my hollow

(I don't follow why swallow sallow he wallows)

feels like a shiv through my soul

(my hole his bole his pole his role he cajoles)

making me hopes and dream pore

(I tore there's gore "I'm sore you whore for more")

in crimson flow

(I don't know and feel low like Poe "So?")

forcing himself on my remains

(of flame I name the pain though vain)

as his uncle forced him into the dark corner

because he doesn't know any better

but he certainly knows worse