soaked in her <br />hormonal rage <br />acid mouth and toxic <br />deliverance <br />she screams white noise <br />and throws rooms <br />from the top <br />of the stairs <br />safe in the knowledge <br />she bears a hot burning <br />seed <br /> <br />in the corner <br />i fold myself <br />into a frail origami <br />nightmare <br />i do my time <br />guilty of nothing <br />except needing <br />to be wanted<br /><br />alexandre arnau<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/2nd-trimester/
