Sunday, October 24, 2010

A Free Bitch, Baby

Her desires are whores
Her dreams, too, sluts
Thought the heart was all hers
Turns out, he's a tramp too

Apologies to the life that got her
She ate the life up
Frustrated it
Filled it with plague

She told them to get her the stars
The stars in a pretty cage
She told them to light it up
The stars in a pretty cage

But they were prostitutes
All of them

Her stories were whores
Her ways, too, sluts
Thought the heart was all hers
Turns out, he's a tramp too

For every face she tore
She was faced by uglier ones
A naive little bird danced
Danced and became a peacock
She became the prostitute and the saint
They became the wives and the virgins


Her liaisons were whores
Her lovers, too, sluts
Thought the heart was all hers
Turns out, he's a tramp too

From Drafts

I sometimes miss being in unrequited love to text them to overthink their text to romanticize every moment to actually dream about them...