"jailbait" poems
I didn't exist in the 90s.
That's right, i just turned eleven.
Just his little slice of ********
Jan 19, 2011
Jan 19, 2011 at 5:12 PM UTC
When the first words out of his mouth was
"Sup *****
I knew a certain few things
1. He was not getting laid tonight.
2. None of us in this room know why he's the party leader,
All glancing at each other in awe
nodding like a hive mind chanting
yes, this man is in fact an *******
no, i don't know how he rose to power
yes, he did just call us *****
3. I could think of a million one liners that would earn me way more respect up front than that.
I don't know what I was expecting
walking into this basement
Maybe some small fame
The same small fame I get from getting on a stage for slam poetry
or being cast in a reality T.v. show
Or singing kareoke at my local bar.
Maybe for the free pizza
We've all been there.
And yes, maybe it was for the revenge.
the campaign slogan you stamped
recruitment posters with.
Join the evil league of evil!
Launch revenge against the modern heroes of today!
But when I sit down in this small fold up metal lawn chair,
in what is presumably his moms basement
Behind a projecter (also probablly his moms)
Next to captain nose bleed
And princess ********
I already don't have a whole lot of faith in his agenda
So when his opening line
Was "Sup *****
Like that is some sort of impressive villanous monolouge peared down into one and a half words.
I lost any ounce of faith I had in this cult.
And decided to Usurp this "Party Leader".
Now you might be asking:
Why?
Why would you want to be the head of the evil league of evil?
Founded in this pre pubescent boys moms basement
Whos only followers so far seem to be captain nosebleed,
and princess ********
Well
clearly
You don't understand.
Captain nosebleed is already under the thumb of princess ********
I mean lets be real without princess ********
We're three dudes in a basement
Pretending to be super villans.
And you've been known to be pretty charming.
But in your friends evil lair.
Sorry
Moms basement.
You start to evaluate your situation
Gotta make a descision.
Are you fighting for Revenge,
or the small fame?
Apr 19, 2016
Apr 19, 2016 at 2:53 PM UTC
I'm not BABE
or ********
or PRINCESS
I'm not the names you throw at me from your car window
I'm not HONEY
or SWEETIE
or LOOK AT ME WHEN IM TALKING TO YOU *****
Harassment. A 10 letter word with thousands of synonyms
each one like a knife to my skin
each one a scar I can point to and show
"this is where I stopped trusting"
and
"this is when I started running"
Never was I prepared for a life where Im told to be timid
To shrink myself down
To be humble so that men aren't threatened
To never speak my mind and to laugh at everything he says
To always carry my keys in my hand like they are a weapon
To never show my skin and that its my fault if I'm taken advantage of because "boys will be boys"
We live in a world where the female body is fetishized
Where women are seen as "liars" if they wear makeup and "lazy" when they don't
Where girls in school are being removed from class because their tank top straps aren't three fingers wide as if making sure that men are comfortable is more important than an education.
The overarching misogyny that plagues women everyday
That makes them see themselves as the "second class *** will always be apparent
Unless we make a change.
So no
I will not SMILE
or BE NICE
I will tear
And destroy
And break
And smash
I will fight.
Feb 25, 2015
Feb 25, 2015 at 2:25 PM UTC
Teenie bopper
Tweenie bopper
Anorexia for the ratings
Skimpy internet clothing barely hiding
Obese baby fat like strangled whales
******** posing daddy complex
In your I-Phone mirror
Nobody cares
Raised in a million dollar ghetto
Love craved lunatics
Drunk on a thousand TV eyes
Pregnant from the womb since birth
Young ***** stretching for an audience
Burgeoning syphilisation nation
Cash in while you’re still fertile
The more crying
The bigger the ratings
The more babies
The bigger the paychecks
Your Dad should’ve pulled out
Your Mom should’ve had your fetus aborted
Mar 5, 2012
Mar 5, 2012 at 9:55 PM UTC
i know how to jump start a car and
i know thirteen different ways to light a fire and
i know that i sleep better when you're here.
i know how to make a pipe with an apple
and i know how to roll poplar bark into twine and
i know what you're afraid of.
i know that sometimes turkeys drown because they stand
with their heads thrown back in the rain.
i know all the state capitals and
i know all the books of the old testament in order and
i know how far you'd have to jump to be sure you didn't survive.
i know that my biggest fear was always the time stretched out between
today and the end and i know that
lately i am not so afraid.
i know it's at least a little bit
because of you.
i know that my lungs crave mountains
like my fingers crave dirt
like my hands crave yours.
i know how the world looks on your seventy second hour awake
and i know how thirteen tabs of acid feels and
i know how to steal things without getting caught.
i know how thirty-year-old hands squeeze
sixteen-year-old hips.
i know that ******** isn't a compliment.
i know deep breathing techniques,
calming rituals,
and numbers for help lines i'll never call.
i know that frogs breathe through their skin
and that sometimes
they die when you touch them.
i know that i do not breathe through my skin,
no matter how often i forget.
Mar 10, 2015
Mar 10, 2015 at 7:07 PM UTC
Nymphets like me grow up,
and guess what?
I am not any scared or scarred
In a parallel world,
Angela invited Lester to her wedding day
and it's realer than death
There's nothing to heal - no sight of old pain
Am I really strong?
I am not sorry - I am not hurt
Even if I did break a few hearts
This nymphet got a job and she dyed her hair
She got to her destination -
but she's not done yet!
And I might have to leave
all of those nymphet, stylish things
no more daddies on the scene
but my inner fire still burns deep
let me resignify what I mean
when I wear my heart shaped glasses
when I feel all pink
that's eternal, it has no age or anything
It's true, I am not ******** anymore.
Isn't that a whole lot more fun?
I am a full woman now
and I am not backing down
(I always was this, waiting to come out)
So I look in the mirror,
and my inner nymphet eyes back,
"you're doing fine, I am proud of who you are"
Nov 17, 2020
Nov 17, 2020 at 10:13 AM UTC
***
Cabin Boy
-------------------------------------
Wondering memories of wild adolescence,
Flash before me like a mental Rolodex
Reverberating daze,
Time cannot take away.
A fifteen–year–old,
Broken neck calypso.
Gazing through the jungle-o window
Unequipped to fathom what was about to happen.
I saw the moon in your eyes,
And knew;
You smile in the way that islands do,
And the zephyrs planned to bring your love back to me, too.
You were everything I imagined.
Sunlight on a dismal day,
The lone palm in the tropic heat,
A boyish grin that made my flowers bloom;
You were the Cabin Boy.
Realizing, all you can be at 23
is yourself.
And I am the wanderer's wandering daughter.
The pretty little minor that come hell or high water,
You broke California law for.
I waited at your f i n g e r
t
i
p
s
Just his little Pisces ********
Who didn't exist till 1996.
An inevitable source of panic that would rise in his eyes
Every time he kissed,
Her Kona lips.
Until deciding he had to leave,
Claiming island fever, on his way out the back door.
Lost as a half-gone waning moon.
With only the ocean’s waves continuous roar
Sun burnt, white foam, salt spray,
Condemned - to an inevitable end
Unable to prevail past the break at your soul's cliff edge.
I grab a raft to float;
In the deep waters of the heart.
Somewhere in between the no -
longer & the still -
to-come
Washed upon my soul’s sand.
Reaching out with new green shoots -
Resurrecting the chthonic biome
From deep within the molten core
Till the blocky incline fell away,
And I found myself;
On the surface of a lake of solidified lava.
Sep 16, 2017
Sep 16, 2017 at 9:59 PM UTC
he said
girls like me should come with yellow tape
police property, do not cross
and if that is because I am ********
I guess now
my skin should say: crime scene, do not
touch
because I am crying over men like they’re
still just boys.
Oct 16, 2013
Oct 16, 2013 at 12:23 PM UTC
Elevator eyes
Scanning the golden body disregarding the operator inside
Trying to find the right button to push, hoping they’ll be the one to get the ride
Seventeen, but actually thirty.
Not ******** but in jail.
Butterfly
Still at the mercy of time
In this **** caterpillar body
Though I am young
Short
Blue-eyed and blonde,
I am not a fool
Go ahead and help yourself to that empty seat at my table
Ask me questions about work, school, or life as if you care
Try to make me blush at your ****** insinuations
But you won’t.
You became insignificant the moment you sat down
I know what you’re thinking
I know your tactics
I know what’s going on inside your head
What you want.
I am not a fool, Elevator eyes.
Aug 31, 2014
Aug 31, 2014 at 8:10 PM UTC
my arms have begun to feel like
the rails on a staircase
that have been painted over one too many times, swollen
and begging to chip – you sunk your teeth
into my flesh
like dull pocket knife blades, but it
was not a love bite. you never loved me enough.
I was
still a child, sprawled on a sofa, spread open,
when you asked if you could
paint me – a rubeneqsue
silhouette that knew too few years,
an anomaly, damning every man with my figure or
something. ********
lifebait, ********** until it ruins you)
it sounded as if it hurt you
to see me, I believed you were going to coat my skin in
*** and blood
instead of pouring it on the paper.
you said everything reminded you of my
shape. you
rolled your car window down one day, and it was
rounded at the top – you
imagined it as my *** grinding
down onto your ****
you cried as you thought this, your daughter
in the backseat,
and fantasized about
cutting all the beauty out of me. you small man, you
coward
I knew
I had to do the bleeding for you
but eventually grew tired
of patching my open wrists with your dried spit.
Oct 20, 2014
Oct 20, 2014 at 1:35 AM UTC
summer nights, outdoor bar fights, the smell of alcohol on men's breaths
cigarette fumes from her dolly friends and the smell of leather in her hands
***** converse and scraped knees
tired eyes and gentle caressing
tired, tired little girl
getting lost within a big world-.
tangled in white silk sheets, listening to his records
while he fixes them a drink
hair smelling of perfume, her body soft as satin
and the pillows like beautiful pastel clouds
silent shifting and awkward positioning, don't touch her or get too close.
tired, tired little girl
getting lost within a big world.
******** auburn hair, scarlet lips, soft sighs
brushing her hair over 100 times
little girl, little girl, where are you going?
painted red lips and your pale limbs showing
hair up in braids and your legs lovely but barley clothed yet
tired, tired little girl
return to sleep
don't get lost within this big world.
-the middle
conceptcollection
Jan 19, 2015
Jan 19, 2015 at 5:07 PM UTC
My name is LITTLE LADY and I am ten years old visiting family. Your eyes hungrily take in my young body and your truck slows down and my heart pounds in my chest. You yell horrible things at me and tears sting my eyes and I run all the way home. I dare not stop to see if you’re following, that would give you an unfair advantage.
My name is SWEET THING and I am twelve years old and we are all here to honor him. Do you have no respect for where we are? Evidently not as you grip my shoulder with an alarming force and I hide in the bathroom while the service carries on. My mother will be furious later that I missed my best friend’s funeral but I’m sure JP would understand mum, I’m sure he would understand how frightened I was.
My name is CHEEKY and I am thirteen years old at the beach with my family. You untie my bikini top and throw it out to the lake. I am mortified and they are laughing and you are laughing and I don’t know how to cope. I cover myself with the last bit of dignity I can muster as my father repeats the four words that have been their excuse for ages, “Boys will be boys”
My name is ***** JUST LOOK AT ME** and I am fifteen years old, words to you that means “old enough”. I am livid but you have the advantage with your size and I cannot defend myself. I hold my keys tight in my fist and bare my teeth like a wolf. I am afraid but the anger rises higher than fear.
My name is ******** and I am seventeen years old. I am strong and unafraid, but with every call I am suddenly ten years old again and running away from the man in the truck. I am strong; so strong, and I must defend myself because no one else will. I must defend myself because no man will ever have the satisfaction of saying they were the one that broke me. I must defend myself because I should never be afraid to walk alone.
Jun 3, 2015
Jun 3, 2015 at 12:30 PM UTC
-- 1 --
He has a need to expend his seed: it is a never-ending endeavour, the smack of wood against leather. In the hot rush to consummate his love he must burn a more energy-rich depravity -- must look for a certain seriousness, a gravity. Right now he is past the ****** and the ‘hos’, “just girls,” he says, “just girls pretending to be women pretending to be ***** and he wants to see real girls naked and ashamed and cutting themselves for money. He gets off on the very idea of people deforming themselves for his pleasure.
-- 2 --
Here he is, being driven by his car. At each corner he sees girls huddled together, sharing warmth. Their lips are locked in thin lines of glamour and they swap his salty substances without even the slightest tremor of desire. At their waists they hold daggers, levelled at each other’s bellies. All the better to cut out the cancer of pregnancy.
-- 3 --
His vices have turned to hate. So equanimous before, so confidential with his needs: now he does not just implore his occasional dates with the soft sad pressure of his bulging eyes; now he asks direct. “Dance for me,” he says, in the privacy of his own filth. “No, sexier,” he exhorts, imagining the first ****** excitations caused by an unspeakably illegal piece of ******** He blames them for having bodies that do this to him. He blames them.
-- 4 --
He blames them.
May 14, 2013
May 14, 2013 at 11:32 AM UTC
That's little bit
Adam and kidd
I **** every
little **** eye meet
1 is to eat
2 is for M eat
3 is trouble SUM
making my own tinder
is kinder ( ha ha ha)
hades lolita's hole
complex like
Madonna & the *****
so is it death ride or row?
No need for ********
so is it death ride or row?
No need for ********
spit me or swallow me,Alice
spit me or swallow me,Alice
spit me or swallow me,Alice
and
come with me to where the rainbow's end
come with me to where the rainbow's end
come with me to where the rainbow's end
IF you get out never look back
this is the house of leaves
this is the house of leaves
stuffocate
little
children
stuffocate
little
children
stuffocate
little
children
Feb 27, 2020
Feb 27, 2020 at 11:15 PM UTC
Remember? When I was ********
You bit that hook
—even
dropped the line off
the side of
some ******* dinghy...
some inflatable **** *******
joke that I took...
Smile on my face as I
wait...
can’t you taste:
the blood?
*notes of cherry blossom,
a bearskin rug,*
RAIN
+
——
+
++
PINE
May 30, 2018
May 30, 2018 at 4:12 AM UTC
Left behind
I don't care about you
I'll look at who I want to look at.
They're cute.
He/she/we are so ****** ****
We are evil.
They are us.
Just stay home and do your work
Clean the dishes and take a hit
She's melting you.
She's torn you.
Herein lies proof that you're no longer on her agenda
********
You're not handsome.
You're shaggy. You're not exciting.
You're kind of an *******
When someone looks at you they won't think,
"Wow, he has got something no one else has."
Unless of course you hold a guitar.
Or a microphone.
Or a *** of cash.
All they will think is
"Who the hell does he think he is?"
I don't, anymore, my love.
I don't.
Oct 7, 2010
Oct 7, 2010 at 11:54 AM UTC
Go talk to that angry customer, they won't yell at a cute little girl like you
Turned into
Hey, you have thick skin go talk to that angry customer
Turned into
Go talk to that angry customer, flirt with him if you have to
Hey tell me what you need so I can carry it for you
Turned into
Hey tell me what you need so I can get it for you
Turned into
Do you need anything?
Dude she's 14
Turned into
No they don't call me ********
Turned into
I'm still 16, no matter what I look like.
7.25
Turned into
7.39
Turned into
8.00
You're a little girl, that's why you get payed less
Turned into
You're a minor, that's why you get payed less
Turned into
You're only getting payed .30 less then the average male worker
Yeah the ones that started last week.
I've been there for two years
And I'm still new
I started when I was 14
And they treated me like a feeble princess
Now I'm 16
And they treat me like a useless girl
Even when I am the best
He is better.
Even when I'm right
He is more right.
He's so right I'm left.
Right?
Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 6:30 PM UTC