writers remorse


I look in the mirror and hate what I see…
Is that really me looking back at me?
What have I done, what was I thinking?
I can’t even blame it on drinking!

It used to be easier to resist
The intoxicating intrigue of bliss
Surrounding a forbidden, stolen kiss.

For others, I saw it would tease and tempt
But I foolishly thought I was exempt…
‘Til he blew through my life like a hurricane,
“He’s taken” a constant refrain in my brain.

That night when his lips met mine, I went slack;
My brain must’ve been too stunned to fight back…
Now I feel the full force of its attack.

Y'all wanna continually shit on Debbie, a fourteen/fifteen year old girl never taught properly about consent, for unknowingly raping someone but stan for Mandy, Karen, and Svetlana who knowingly did the same thing.


And by that metric, you’re all just terrorists. And I kill terrorists.