Iām tired of straining
The pulp pain from my art
For the virtue of palatability
Iām tired of men
Defining virtue and true femininity
A heretical guide to a world unknown
Iām tired of men
Avaricious soul sucking beasts
How can a woman not represent Christ
As a priest
When I see a cross in every matriarch Iāve known
Bleeding for our sins
There is a doe in the forest
Frail and gasping
She begs for mercy
But itās autumn
She begs for mercy
But itās spring














