Let's talk about the issues 

with this world.

For example, do we even know 

what privacy is?


Your business is none of my concern, ladies

and yet, here we go again.

Of course I would love to hear about that tampon 

you're wearing for your menstrual cycle.


Oh, you're ovaries hurt?

Great, I was just dying to know.

Pusy, discharge, douche, lovely things to talk about,

I'm not uncomfortable at all.


Oh and don't get me started on you gentlemen.

That latest shag of yours was

just what I needed to hear about

in English class at eight am, riveting really.


Your most recent screw with that THOT just fascinates me.

Tell me more about how great the sex was 

and how much of a slut she was.

How could anybody find that offensive or revolting?


Don't worry, I have nothing better to do 

with my life than listen to your 

tall tales about how big your cock is,

and how often you get laid.


My life is just yours to waste with

pointless conversations about 

your feminine hygiene and frequent intercourse.

I don't hate these conversations at all.


But for the record, I do.

Women, periods don't vanish if you advertise them, deal with it.

And men, bragging won't get you laid anytime soon. 

But hey, thanks for the nightmares anyway.

This poem is about: 
My community
Our world


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