There is no point.
There shall be too many points.
Our disagreements,your male ego.
Mine feminine sensitivities shall be rubbed wrong.
We”ll go hurting each other mad.Won’t be able to go away.I would quietly take it all on me.Let that somewhere find place in my being, and like a trophy I shall carry it on me-your ruthlessness.
My silence.There is no point.
More than that.But,this is me.
I know,it is confusing,even to me.
My Vulnerable mind,in your hands.
It is you,won’t mind.In my right mind to question that.
Your torments,Sweet heart.