18+ poem. This isn't the type of things that i usually write about but i was in a different mood so this is what came of it.
Black shoes, Red dress and belt.
Out in the world selling the best seller.
Encase you haven't heard, sex sells.
My story doesn't matter, I'm out selling tail or selling
myself whatever self entails.
His eyes always says spare me the details
and lay on your back, flat no, here, here's a pillow it's better...
for me anyway or bend over that way, I can't see the shame on
Red learned to escape with a little coke-weed...
hopefully, this won't take too long.
A need to feel free mentally escaping into
Guilt Freedom from this money game she plays
accenting her body in men's faces, they can't turn away...
She learned to lure their visual her way, control.
sons, brothers, fathers, uncles, husbands, they all play a
role, if they could love *her* a few moments those few
moments make her feel whole, complete, a person, she matters
as a matter a fact she never means to attack their visual
but she needs their attention, she was never paid attention to.