Poetry of a Conlanger

Saturday, June 03, 2006

Don’t Make Me Hurt You (5/17/06)

Excuse me, slut,
Who do you think you’re looking at?
No, don’t you even
Dare
Touch him.

That’s right, you heard me.
Keep your filthy hands
To
Yourself,
For a change.

Yeah, I did just slap you.
Don’t try to tell my
You didn’t do that,
Or you’re sorry—
I know it’s a
Waste-of-oxygen
Bullshit.

I am so fucking sick
Of whores and how they
Fuck up
Good people’s lives.

You have the right to remain silent.

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