Musings of Former Teenage Prostitue

The Musings of a Prostitute

Notes: Just random bits of poetry that have burst free of my, admittedly, twisted mind. I suppose its only right to confess that I was, for about a year and a half, homeless and ‘boy for hire’. I have undoubtedly slept with more married men that I care to put much thought into.

Nonetheless, on to the poetry.

1) Doll Eyes

Lifeless Plaything

Lying in the Rain

Scrub Skin Raw

It’s not Really Pain

Always so Dirty, Dirty

When I Feel Like this

So Dead to the World

Alcohol Tinged Kiss

Blacken Out Those Doll Eyes

Stab Them Blind

Whiten Out Those Doll Eyes

Sightless in Hurt I Can’t Find

Gassy Dead Marbles

Claw Them Out

Feel it Seep

Nothing Left to Hope About

You Bleed on the Inside

Shake With Each Little Fall

Coughing With Every Breath

They Love to Watch me Crawl

It won’t Matter How you Cry

It’s all Been Paid For

Swallowing it Down This Time

And Look with Lifeless Doll Eyes