Something is pulling me,
Stroking my kitten's back with a master's palm,
Telling me, "go on, go on."
But I, the cowardly princess,
Stand in my sin that reeks like shit
And the fumes bleed into my lacy black skirt.
But I smile,
'cuz my shit's contagious, baby.
The attention, I love it,
All the men I attract with the catty harlot ways
That I detest, and I condemn,
'til the night so soaks my eyes
That I'm forced to wipe them clean
With a dirty stinky napkin my man of the moment
Probably released on!
I hate myself, I love my hair,
My eyes, my piano-player fingers
That slip and stroke so cleanly on the tan bedsheets
When I lay lost in dreams,
Hiding out until I see my inevitable
Fate with my own eyes. Unfortunate
For me, this is all I see:
A dying me,
If the princess fails to flee
From the masked hatred of many,
Many men.
So happy would the princess be,
If maybe she,
Her heart ablaze with affection and warmth,
Would realize one day and say,
"Well hey, you know?
I guess my shit does stink." |
Submission Name: Princess Harlot
