Bazaar

I fought the toughest battle inside me,

I bleed my own heart daily,

Shred of it always comes out with tears,

I noose my feelings from the top of the roof,

So, that there be no chance of survival

I now became a machine,

Who is ready to fulfil others desire,

I am still confused about my survival,

Because I now became a sex toy for others, 

Who only works for the satisfaction of others.

I became a broker of my own body,

People come and tear my flesh,

Rubs his desire on my lips and skin,

Eject all his frustration inside my vagina,

And be in the ultimate satisfaction of the day.

I am still confused about my existence,

I am just too soaked the negativity of society,

Or have I any meaningful existence?

I am fighting a merciless battle daily in life,

As a result, I just get bloated blood on my pads.