Jo said to write poems so i'll still sustain my love for concocting eccetric phrases, so i did.

Sluts(any resemblance to anyone is purely coincidental)

They whine,

they grind,

they saunter

down my spine.

Their name,

their game.

They play it,

nought of tame.

Our hate,

their joy.

Our boy,

they bait.

oh wait,there's more.

An avalanche of misery on the tender alleys of my artery.

i like.