lighting is dim but defined with a flash
her fingers reach to put her bra into place
she bought it a week ago and it’s all lined with lace
she fluffs up her hair with a strand behind her ear
she remembers when this moment brought her fear

it’s 11:00pm and the bra will stay on until 11:05pm
her makeup is long wear and it starts to hurt her eyes
but she knows her eyeliner will paralyze glamorize and hypnotize
duty
obligation or free will?

her body sheds the last piece of clothing
she knows now’s the time to start moaning
they won’t notice how forced it feels
she’s already got them head over heels
their mind stops working or at least that’s what they say
what’s more important than their lust?
project your important with every ******

she’s a product of their imagination
she’s an object
or at least that’s what they make it seem
she’s to do whatever they dream

***** talk, slow blinking and a kiss
soft caresses or hard slaps
soon they’ll line her arms with straps
tied tied tied
or free free free
what’s control and where does it end?
was this ever a way to mend?

I’m *** *** *** *** ***
is my worth portrayed in the pleasure?
is there any other way to measure?
how should I view myself
if all other people see is themself

empower
support but never consider
all the ways in which you hurt her
don’t come around and don’t touch me there
don’t rip apart my underwear

I still touch and I still come around
I’m your personal little playground