Paint the Town Dread

New sensation starting to settle;

I see your eyes, your lip, tremble.

Wondering whether I’ll offer it up?

Burn me with eyes screaming ‘let’s fuck!’.

‘Let’s fuck’ whether I want it or not;

Whether it’s action or thought:

You’re hot so I’ll plot

And I’ll undress and wonder

What cost must be paid,

For your body to plunder.

 

You’re not leaving the house,

Looking like that.

Cover up. Tone it down;

Don’t draw attention,

Unless you’re fearless

Of fearful tension.

 

Bolstered ego boulders me though;

Daily watch it swell and grow.

Feel so pretty, feel so hot,

And feel the poison as it rots

Inside; convicted composure

Once imprisoned exposure:

Bars of banality bonded

And stretched over

Naked flesh on display,

Keeping grasping hands at bay.

 

I can’t leave the house,

Looking like this.

That doesn’t match.

Show off. Stand out more.

Draw more attention,

You look like a whore

Peacock and pout,

I’m going out.

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