Sometimes I hear the words, coming out of my mouth
and I wonder what you think of me –
am I she of loose-morals,
she, the hussy, the attention-seeking
she of desperation, of self-degradation
she of poor judgement, with questionable choices
she, without stability.
Let’s play with addictions
let’s have a good time –
if you show me yours, I’ll show you mine.
Let’s get weird together
fill our bellies with fire –
laugh until we cry.
Let’s make a memory
Something just between you and I –
a gift to immortalise the time.
Let’s get lost together
hold hands and simply roam –
enjoy finding our way home.
Bones clack and protrude:
a sure-sign that she clearly
doesn’t give a fuck
but oh, how clothes hang
so well on her
Sickening that anyone
could think such-a-thing
or envy the bone-clack
walks and talks
and mistreats
only in her twenties-
it’ll be a short road, for sure.