Once I cried at the thought of a man
Forcing himself inside of me.
I was scared of the night owls
Breaking my locks, draining me of blood,
I imagined dying.
And when the time did come to be crushed, I felt myself start to snap.
Everything about him was too large to the point I refused to let him touch my leg
Never mind let him do what he really wanted to do.

I led him on.
I led them all on.
I resigned to softer features,
Those who'd understand the dolling up, the shirt covered stomach
The endless closure of my eyes they couldn't stare at themselves in.
Of course that never came to fruition but now
I'm so sick of myself I feel nauseous come nighttime.
Lost in the darkness until I fall asleep in a huff.

Maybe I should've let him do it.
Same with the man who
Squeezed me like a clementine
Thinking he was shooting me up, a rocket in his pocket.
Only I was shooting up to forget how he made me feel like a corpse.
To my friends I expressed this and ran into a taxi...
Only for him to slap the shame of being a lesbian back into me.
If I said it didn't lead me to consider trading my body with stardom I'd be lying.

If someone saw me the way I see myself in bed
I think I'd want to be with me too.
This is the slaughter of the lost girl
I’m printing it on the skin of the new girl - the not easy but free girl
Who's sexuality has nothing to do with damage already done.
Deep is the depths of the lengths I’m going to to celebrate this
In the darkest realms possible.
The care dripping from my nerves.