Wicked Games


She, she knows all of what love is not. It comes to her like a foreign language nobody has ever cared to teach her. She, she swears she knows her body is a temple but she treats it like a cemetary, only for men to come kill their stress in between the gates of her virtrue. Her body has never felt the tingle of any sort of love cuz it too many times has been tingled with lust. It knows her well, overflowing into the pores of her skin, but she is drowning. She doesn't mind makeup leaving question marks on the sides of her face. She likes to keep her audience guessing and she herself shrouding in a shadow of mystery, but she is sinking. She keeps her past under the bed of her mind to entertain the monsters that keep her awake at night. The kind of monsters that leave her body cold shivering, with only a touch of strangers pelvis to keep her warm at night, to keep her breathing at night but she is drowning.She's only reminded of her existence through the wet lines racing down her thighs but she is sinking. Anchored to the misconception that she's only  pair of breast and foreign extremities. That exotic seductress but despised alien. Beauty has never been around her long enough for her to recgonize it in her own reflection and she is drowning. She is drowning, sinking, further and further until she forgets what the sun looks like.

Scattered heart aching, she is drowning

Broken mind weeping, she is sinking

Blood on her wrist, she is dying

. . . . And nobody ever cared enough to save her.

One thing I woud change is self perception of beauty. Constantly everyday girs and young women are bombarded of these images of what society sees as beauty, and so much so they can't even see for themselves. Yes sex sells but how long will it go till you soul is sold too. There are too many girls killing themselves, their identity, to look like a standard of society that does not fit their own. I would change how girl's hate themselves to loving themselves and appriciate their beauty.



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