You're just passing through,
Waiting for the next destination.
You want no trouble but
It always seems to find you
Like an old friend-
No- more like an annoyance,
I mean acquaintance,
You didn't want to see.
But he sure was glad to see you.
He pulls you aside
And asks you to spread 'em,
As if you can hide anything
Under your soft curves
He was eyeing just moments ago.
But you oblige cause to do otherwise...
You don't want no trouble so
You raise your hands up high,
Offering yourself as a sacrifice
To maintain the peace,
While your insides churn with chaotic disgust,
As his ravenous hands reach for your body.
Now starts the pat-down,
He begins with your breasts
And then the smooth line of your waist,
Never taking into account
The doubts and insecurities
Weighing on your chest
Or the nervous hatred bubbling in your belly.
No, he doesn't care
Because he's dealing with the battle
Within his own body:
How far can he go to enjoy this
Without appearing like a perv?
If only he knew,
What an eye you had on him.
He holds in his whistle
As he makes his way past your hips.
But you can still see
The lust in his eyes.
Who wouldn't notice
His wolf interior bursting out at the seams?
No, he can't fool you.
That he does know
So he turns you around to continue his search.
(For what, who knows?)
He finally reaches that ass
Oh, how they love to pat that ass.
He gives it an appreciable squeeze
And shameful anger flushes through your veins.
He forgot himself,
With your eyes facing upfront.
Maybe that's why it's so easy
To stab people in the back.
He now moves down your legs
But not before he touches you where
You have to bite down the reflex to yell,
Knowing full well that no scream
Would ever be loud enough
To wake up the dead,
Your innocence long gone.
You're a big girl now and
He's done with you now,
Already forgetting about you
Not giving a damn that you haven't
That you can't.
You didn't want no trouble.
You were just passing through.
But he, like everyone else, passed through you,
Leaving marks and bruises
Another claim on your terrain.
Not that anyone could tell
If anyone cared to notice
But they don't.
You're left to hunch over the burdens
But you don't
Because your mama taught you a better posture:
Don't ever be ashamed of those bruises and scars.
Baby, you are truth
That sometimes you are a battlefield
That people bring the war to you,
But you can survive.
You are proof that we can survive.
I survived.
No comments