How Many Regrets Are Yet To Be Counted?
how freely have you walked with men who never have the right to hold your hand under their arms? how many regrets do you feel? after obeying the one you were taught to see as "uncle" wrapped your ear with his thick lips? the "uncle" that stripped you with his icy fingers? the one that forgot his about-to-quench thirst would question your lifetime? how many times did you dot an empty space in your heart to count regrets? did you start counting after the beast swore to dig beneath your thighs? after the one that only rubbed, and was ready to dig from behind? and told you to support your worn-out lips with your index finger, and never forget to lick its salty and metallic sweat. twenty,sixty,hundred dots to fill a deep emptiness. can you tell me how many dots are yet to fill your emptiness?...if you've sworn to bury your voice.