Riding on the Metro Bus, I noticed a girl with a tattoo on her temple that says L.A.
why would she want to promote this place?
I'm crying next to a street light and a man...
no not a man....
an animal....
mistakes me for a ******* and offers me 100 dollars for a *******.
Anger and fear have a way of making one run like a cheetah,
I admired my legs, the way they effortlessly glide away from danger and death.
****** hiding in every nook and if you're lucky,
you might run into a needle.
Hot in the day and cold at night just like the people.
But on the upside... Marijuana is legal.
The downside is the degradation of the soul
that is acceptable here because a girl needs to eat
and an animal needs a quick fix.
This one demon said: you're never going to make it.
You're too young and naive and not willing to bleed.
I scratched my leg so hard while he was speaking
that blood starting pouring out of me.
I didn't say ******* because I would never sacrifice my body
to this poor excuse of a human being, even in language.
Instead I slipped out of his house while he was in the bathroom
like a one night stand.
Los Angeles taught me that in this society, I am just a body.