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This is my choice

Aren’t you listening

You luscious god

I am a hunter

I am a queen

I am desireless and I’m fucking free

Rather be dead than be your wife

Rather be dead than be your slave

Rather be a tree, rather be a tree

My hands are weak

My fingers leaves

My feet are growing in the ground

I feel his breath

Behind my neck

I ran so fast but it was not enough

I’m not dead, I’m not dead

My new shape is in the ground