Froth and Foam of Mutilated Strawberries

the pain of being a woman

thrust inside my womb was a pain I could not live with.
a pain of infertility of my own power to protect myself.
an invasion of an abrasion lost somewhere inside;black ovaries of death, I will bear only rotten eggs.
intensifying heat, burning inside outward;a lack of love, a lack of heart is your concious distraction.
how do you expect to see god if you live your life as satan;and how could you expect to be saved if you know your sins are intened?