I met him not long after I turned fourteen
young, fresh, with the bad girl twist
of knowing how to pet myself between
sure of my stride, sure of their greed
though when you begin to bleed
you tighten up your step in the dark
easy tight pink wet watermark

left to mull I'm all men hunger for
but they take what they need and nothing more

under fluorescent lighting, my first arrow found the hunt
wide, lurid eyes of a circling hawk
the game became me, rather I ripened
a chase of electric desire with no end
to live behind the backs of letdowns
+ **** + give + take on school grounds
what a finger to you I said with a drag of a smoke
lost as to whom I actually spoke
he drank the spring when it flowed so simply to him
fingered my throat and saw stars therein
took his fill and said don't call
seems he got all he needed, after all

seven years have passed since I was last fourteen
but I saw him last week walking down Leigh
he missed my glare as he passed
but I caught a glimpse of a hint of past
eyes of pitch locked in
too late
on yet again the youngest bait