As we sit down to our dinners,
as we open our romance books,
people die.

We sip our water;
their guts spill open.
We study our notes;
their planes crash.

We live;
they die.
We breathe;
they suffocate.

We are testaments to chance,
to luck, to possibility.

We are not products of God.

We are blind goats trotting on our path
before we perish, suddenly,
and vanish into death.

This one is for my pretty girls
For the girls who count calories
And tell their friends they aren’t hungry
So they can see their pretty bones
This one is for my pretty girls
The girls who sit shaking on their bathroom floors
With pain in their hearts and knifes in their hands
So they paint pretty marks on themselves
This one is for my pretty girls
Those who were born boys
And get slammed into lockers and yelled slurs at
Yet still try their hardest to be
One of the pretty girls they’re meant to be
This one is for my pretty girls
The ones who always looks uncomfortable in class
Sitting by the man who makes them queasy
So they don’t make a pretty fuss
This one is for my pretty girls
Who sneak out to pride parades
And ignore the word *** tattooed into their binders
So they could love other pretty girls
This one is for my pretty girls
Whose arms flinch when grabbed
And bodies shudder when voices raise
So they can be daddy’s pretty girl
This one is for my pretty girls
Who don’t talk about after parties
And don’t tell their friends or parents
So they aren’t called pretty little *****
This one is for my pretty girls
The ones who tempt fate and take pills
Take jokes about hating themselves too far
So they can try and get their pretty sleep
This one is for my pretty girls
The ones who cry out when they need help
But no one answers because no one hears them
And they can’t speak
And they can’t breathe
And there’s tears rolling down their cheeks
But they do nothing
This one is for my broken girls
My girls like me
This one is for my strong girls
My girls that haven’t given up
This one is for the pretty girls
My beautiful, beautiful girls

Girls will be girls
they’ll sing and dance
so boys can’t help but grab
girls right in their underpants

Girls will be girls
they’ll flirt and sass
but they never ****
‘cause they aren’t crass

Girls will be girls
they’ll study hard
to ****** the boys
who’ll mow the yard

Girls will be girls
they’ll say no and stop
but we won’t believe them:
the boys are cops!

Girls will be girls
they’ll cook and clean
and raise the kids
but must stay lean

Girls will be girls
they’ll work all day
and take home just part
of what boys are paid

Girls will be girls
they’ll talk and chat
but then get hysterical
when boys call them fat

Girls will be girls
they’ll wear nice dresses
and never soil them
wiping up boys’ messes

Girls will be girls
they’ll run and vote
while boys drink beer
and win and gloat

Girls will be girls
and we know what that means:
they must always smile
and never scream

Girls will be girls
so let’s hope and pray
that girls are girls enough to save
this ****** up world
we boys have made.

They say never to underestimate
the rage of a woman
but what we should not underestimate
is the touch of a woman
for that is what will break you
sending you insane
with desire.  

Spinning through all seven deadly sins.

From gluttony through to lust
pride through to envy
anger through to greed
leaving you at sloth
avoiding all else that matters
craving only;
the touch of a woman.