Spoiled in more ways than one
For the record
I once was a pure white maiden
who wore their hair in pigtail braids
and only chewed tobacco on
Saturday evenings.
Sabbath never meant a word to me
The misunderstood don't understand
Mistakes are still made
Out of control
In the backseat beating to a drum
Sound coming from the heart
thrown in the glove box
I didn't mean to -
You chopped off my hair
with a rusty blade
left scars on my shins
battered not broken
for the record
rotten. In more ways than one.