Existential Crises

Who is she?

Who is that nude siren staring back?

Hips taut and nipples stark,

Lips soft and heart tough,

Mind set to take her right.

Who am I?

Why is a shy maiden staring back?

Lips rough and heart short

Hips sly with hidden spots

Aching and ready, willing but lost.

And that little voice that haunts me speaks;

She’s freedom and you’re decay.

She’s evil and you are the way.

It slither’s commands to make me stay;

Don’t,

Stop,

Just turn away.

And just like that, I am easy to sway.

With words that sooth my fear and trembling,

It reaffirms my ethics for each day;

Desire is just a hooker’s play.

So fear the siren and her filthy ways.

Live in honour on the maiden’s way.

For God,

For Country,

For our holy days.

As I walk away

To the house with voices,

From the home of dreams

Where there is silence,

I only barely wonder;

Who was she?

Who was that nude siren staring back?

Hips taut and nipples stark,

With soft lips and a tough heart,

And eyes so alive they shone so bright.

Why is she not me?

Why am I not her?

LEBRECHT-HITLEBB

||MEMOIRS||

 

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Hitlebb

I am me. I am Me. I write when I want to be free.

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