I see signals in other women's heartache
and I don't want to be this miserable
portrayed by a thump thump and a catcall
reduced to a statue of lust
cracks in all the things I want to trust
so seduced by my stress
perplexed by the mess
of what's been said
he's a **** but,
in his head
he's infected by sincere ideas  
to strategize the fear he feels and creates
standing up to monsters you fed
then fled to be branded with curses
hummed under his breath
still i'm vexed by whispers that keep me awake
reminding me, how easy I break