ah,
here comes the invisible glove
it loosens the beast's choking collar
lures attention toward the inside chew toy.
ah,
here come the mastiffs
ready to play Tug-O-War
rip the inside to shreds
then naw on the bloody
raw remains.
ah,
it cannot be the squirming dread once a month
no.
the predictable pain is yet to arrive
now resume your lives
and straighten your shoulders
tighten unseen corsets and flirt silent fans
stay gloved, stay quiet
all while the wild dogs
run savage until the month is gone,
the whistle blows,
and the inside drips out, out, out.
an invisible knife
stab stab stabbing
still chewing
still pulling
until here comes the heat.
the pain killers
feel numb feel nothing feel the quiet calm
and it always expires too urgently.
ow.
-
Fin.
Women, i think you'll get me.
Ps: Wheat bags saved my life β€οΈ
About the Creator
Ruby Red
Heya friend, I'm Red!
I write poetry, so subscribe for a hint of vulnerability, some honesty and the occasional glimpse behind my mask π±
Taking a break from Vocal; focusing on my anthology π«Άπ
AI is not art.

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