Trust Issues

A Dawn yesternight,
I slowly pinched my duvet,
Two more hours;
and he yells for me,
Bent to the fat, he cry's:
Open up old wood;
Infested maggot egg;
Raw cocoyam that can't be cooked,
A supposed womanhood has been torned again,
Thrusting his spec forcefully,
A million bubbles in her dreams,
Becomes a reality,
Hickey must remain her inheritance.

Three puppies with soiled paws,
Follows her trails,
Scars on their elbows to show the earth.