Asking For It

It’s time to fuck the world;

Hard and bloody and fast and violent,

Till her toes are curled

And she lays there silent.

Silently regretful, completely resentful

Of new scars erected

On top of unfading wounds

Long since infected.

 

Spread this disease

At will, as you please;

Pull tighter, squeeze,

She’s down on her knees.

 

No desire to protect –

She’s crawling,

Best get checked.

She’s bawling –

Breaking and blistered and beaten;

So tired of being eaten

From within and without –

Dry, cracked lips fail to shout.

 

Your time in her’s fleeting,

An eye blink, your meeting –

With each pump you’re excreting;

Leaving fever, she’s heating.

 

Ignore her cries,

It’s her fault if she dies.

Just look at her attire,

She’ll be easy to acquire:

She’s practically naked

And begging for more;

Though her light inside’s faded,

A whore’s still a whore.

 

Poisoned and chained,

Unforgiving and stained –

‘It’s not rape!’ you exclaimed;

Not the least bit ashamed.

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