cacoon

I am born from the scream god tried to hush,
stitched to a womb that bled and blushed.

my lips are cloven, my kiss a disease.
my wings have thorns and they flap with tease.

I drink thy dispair in velvet sips,
with petals stitched to my severed lips.

A garden grows beneath my skin, fertile and lush from rot within.

i sing a song of moans that wound to part,
of teeth that blooms beneath heart.

Dont touch me down there, its red but not a rose.
its a wound from god, that never chose to close.

-a little about myself
Proud feminist,
i am weak , fragile and break easily , i never abuse, please be gentle & treat me like a human being 😉

dislikes : old big bearded men, rape mentality, abusive or rough people. mysoginy, conservative people who fetishize.

You can tell me about your childhood, have the most mundane conversation, don't be nervous to approach

and yes i use my own photos as profile pics