You like them sick,

With an appetite of cigarettes and ****

Yours, to be specific

Small enough for you to scare

But big enough for no one to care



You like them easy,

Freakish in what they’ll do to please

Only you, to be specific

Willing to do everything and anything  

For their all mighty king



You like them dumb,

It’s easier to get away with it that way

For you, to be specific  

Bruises raise less alarms  

When they’re wrapped in your arms



You like them disposable,

Dolls you can interchange whenever you want

For you, to be specific  

When you get bored of her  

Swap her for someone else you’d prefer.