Throw me in the whore house.
He looked at my grapefruits crusting over,
I said honey you don’t want these.
I see men by the hour.
Trying to dazzle me with false power.
One brought me a flower.
I left it wilting in the shower.
We were in the lonely hour,
Reminiscing upon time lost and silent regret.
He said “Baby I’m sorry, you can’t even get wet.”
But oh he was wrong, the tear flow was strong.
My face was soaked with the ghosts
I kept to myself.
He tried to put his cock in my mouth
But I wouldn’t allow it.
So we lit up a smoke and he told some bad jokes.
About a woman named Sally, a prude little queen.
To her suitors she was mean. They only wanted the green.
Their eyes gazed diamonds and her pussy pristine.
She made them fuck off saying “Bitch I am me!”
Sally went home that night to her pretty pink palace.
She fingered her cooch and screamed “Yea I’m da baddest.”
Happiness is real. I know one day I’ll fine it.
When I get out of here, I hope to God I won’t be blinded.
I’ll find a doctor and I won’t suck his dick.
If he pull it out and play with it, I won’t even lick.
I’ll get a new job brewing coffee for the joes.
I won’t even slap my own ass or think I’m a ho.
But you know what I’m ready for?
To treat my stds and make my own pussy scream.
Artwork: Hypnotic Circle by Lucas Lasnier (parbo art)- https://www.flickr.com/photos/parboart/