Maimed
I think its funny
how my activities
what defines me
is that my age
is older than that of the men i date
like a prowling beast
narrowing in on a feast.
But you boys are nothing near the love i need.
Not like the love i lost.
Each one gone now.
The joker– you think I can’t smell your fear
the drugs you dropped to come back near...
you look like my ray but you are never mine, not really.
You disappear like a mystery.
Thats fine by me.
The biker-caring a knife,
like i’d fear for life.
You just want a fuck,
funny cause all i wanted was a bloke,
To show how bad i can be.
You wont get a chance of a ride,
unless its on your finer bikes, cause it ain’t off me.
And my poet,
who lost my spirit,
who took my last shred of confidence,
how did you break me.
This does’t make me...
How can you not even look at me,
yet joke with me about babies.
Your so wide eyes but yet you dont see.
I feel for you, while you ran from me.
So boys,
go back to your playground.
I’v a thousand dates lined up.
Each one i give less fucks.
Each young toy boy and older suga daddy, gets me through the next day.
And as I quote so my maimed mind sleeps.
“if lust wasnt banished from heaven there wouldnt be a line at hells gates.”
I’ll go to hell, just to feel safe.
