Sleeppyyyyy..

So I’m trying to write myself to sleep
flood my blog
with all the words
I water it with
hoping it grows
before I decide to cut it down
recycling it back
and let someone else
claim poetry noir
on blogger.com

I wish I could rid myself
of all of the negativity
surrounding me
if it isn’t evil women
who deserve to be called bitches..
and they are not down one’s either
The bitches with the gene
it remains to be the same
that a man if he ever get’s in your pants
is no longer cool
if his hands aren’t allowed to explore
the privacy he thought he ruled

but when the rules to her house
have been disrespected
it is hard for her to open up
and let him in
once the doors have been closed
to him..
once he’s been banned from home
that’s it

he flips
he loses his mind
thinking possibly
that another man
will one day
explore her body
with his finger tips
and enter her
charted city
darting it w/ his graffiti
covering up what
art he left
scribbled upon her walls
failing to realize
she doesn’t want to see
him spraying new walls
but sometimes it is best
to change colors
to paint a prettier picture
but she won’t lose it
until she finds another painter
she has her 10 fingers..