Roxy

You don't see the being inside of me.
Surface level projection of your beliefs.
A flesh Acheron inconveniently diseased.
Nasty for the sin of being free.
Unfit for you to live vicariously.
I try instead to live for me.
An attack you'd like to believe.
But old scars tend to deceive.

The parts of you in me feel like sand.
Forcing my brand new heart to expand.
Would you like me better if I was a man?
Curiosity hooks me under your command.
I'm done trying to understand.
The darkness motivating your hand.
To crucify each and every plan.
No amount of empathy exists that can

(make you love me).