nice little boys always fiddle
with rotten girls. from neighborhood’s
of crippled mothers, and sons of power.
to adventure they screech.
how Alice tastes with her nicotine, sweet temptation of the body -
of Eve and all her collection.
they take to her berry lips, the tonguing of blood - where bites destroy like arson.
and watch, he’s gonna cry wolf.

pastor’s boys parade warrior
songs for depressed little girls. unwelcome to our language. how
selfish she must be! and they stomp irate
to invigorate delusions.
prince charming out for a grand prize. they only wish to make sense of life the way their fathers never taught.
a bowl of confections surprise!
and we must be for taking freely

fragile boys devour sinful girls. put all our chips on the table
and manipulate the reason.
guilt trips for living life without conviction.
all your sins carry a heavier weight. though they will dissect your body and smear a savior campaign.
won’t you let him mend you while he molds you?

and as your knees bleed while
you strut on his stage - he will have his letters ready.
excuses of charm for he could never warm towards you.
bits to pieces, your hold is never that of a mother's touch
he still resents.

these boys - they pick their dolls
to walk next to as entertainment turns
ice.
they want us dirty and alive,
bitter and pretty.
they want us simple and ugly,
boring and sexy.
they want to grab our hands and hear our thoughts.
beat us with submission,
love us with their pity.
get in our head and master our will.

they think of saving for free. and what a lucky damage you are.
you think you need his courage.

don’t i?
not with the kind i store