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Sep 27
Pretty red lips, ice dagger stare,
Secret truths laid to bare.
Pointy high heel pressed against your heart—
Piercing through is only a start.

They say not to, but really, who’s to stop you?
Pretty red lips, ice dagger stare.
They say not to, but really, who’s to stop you?
Secret truths laid to bare.

They say femme fatales never win,
But I reveal the hidden sin.
The self-righteous act grows old—
Who wants to do as they're told?

A void within, black hole filling in.
I get what's mine, until next time.
This emptiness drives me, a never-ending thirst,
A hunger so deep, it feels like a curse.

Pride in your chest wells up, you think "I’m your man."
You’re my next victim, according to plan.
You poor thing, you don’t stand a chance—
Every sin, a calculated dance.

One gentle kiss and a wink, you’re mine.
Snakes of deceit around your heart intertwine.
You say it’s wrong, and it’s your last stand,
But really, you know you’re in sinking sand.

They say to stay away, but who’s to stop you?
Those pretty red lips, that ice dagger stare.
They say to stay away, but who’s to stop you,
When secret truths are laid so bare?
This poem is meant to explore the complexities of female identity, highlighting transformation and empowerment. It may weave together themes of allure, strength, and independence, reflecting on how women navigate growth and societal expectations through the archetype of a femme fatale character.
Written by
Ashley Kurien
172
   Rob Rutledge
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