published

why, oh

for the love of god
why?

what sort of person lets
complete strangers in on
their lives, every

dirty little secret, petty need
twisted desire

who

would practically get on their knees,
begging
to be judged by the words they write

the pieces of themselves they
give away

who?

me, you, all
of us
sick little puppies

with pencils in our hands.