I will not sleepIf that's what it takesTo not wake upAs my mother

These poor men. They try so hard.to b r e a k my s p i r i t and laugh about it.I know my way around the forest.The question isdo they

I refuse to be your batteryYou don't get to drain me anymoreYou don't get to charge me anytime for anything anymoreYou don't get to judge me-to think I'm used up and be indecisive dailywhether you'd like to get a new oneYou don't get to connect to meor keep testing meYou haven't saved up enoughintegrity to afford this high qualitybatteryThe only thing I will allowis for you to replace me-Good luck.

I see your emotional abuseand I raise youmy confessional poetry.

Nothing breaks likeBoysPretending to be men.