One day I will be some teenage boy's princess
a widow to myself, but in full bloom
longed to be taken
and more than just poised on the posters in his room

And as much as my eyes
will glimmer just for him
I will be some girl's witch
to be burnt at the stake.

Never in this life will I know how she will martyr me
for my words, or my face
for my selfish suffering.
Never in this life will I know
the confusing duality in being both loathed
and lusted after.

My face on a million blogs
my skin in someone's dreams
or my words inked beneath their skin.

The infamy I hunted after
commercialized, torn apart, over analyzed
and made out to be
just another man's sin.

Boy, remember well
just speaking my name to her
is a sin.