Etch not onto her pliant flesh,
Cruel marks of your monstrous desire.
She bears your atrocities,
With silent rage,
Waiting to unleash her wrath.
Claws gnashing at her soul,
With an ego like a hill,
A temper like a mountain.
She awaits your arrival,
An arrival of future blood.
Sweat, and
No tears will she shed.
No woman, no cry.
A pot placed on a...