Emo poetry from freshman year of college that has become relevant again (but less so.) So I edit and share. I should start writing again. I'm not great at it, but I like it.
Out of Control
Her hands are still, and she washed her face. So,
Nobody sees.
Except me.
I heard the groan that emanates from the womb
Of a woman
In self comfort.
Now see --
Steady
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