ywp is my home away from home except it's always at my home so it is my home

Tell me, am I not the only one who is sick of these damn old men deciding what women are going to do with their bodies?

I was walking through the bush when I stumbled upon a quaint fairy dwelling built into the surrounding oaks.

It's cold outside so I shiver.

It's hot inside, so I sweat.

I'm starting to freeze, starting to crack.

The words, the thoughts build up in my chest

Trying to climb up into my throat

But I won't let them