If It’s There, You can Stare

If you open the door, you can stare at my tits

And I’ll smile with doubt, because I’m too used to it.

Licking lips linger on my own fallen jaw

Your swollen sexuality hits me so raw

But it’s okay if you compliment and tell me I’m hot.

This mouth speaks and talks, but you’d rather it not.

But you could be my new master!

My hips slip so quick, but my brain’s even faster~

Marble eyes roll down my body, then back in your head

Would you rather I smiled and nodded instead?

I do not feel excited when I feel your hot breath.

Just my sick lunch returning – you disgust me to death.

This ladies and gentlemen game is fucked up

when you’re left feeling good and I’m found throwing up.

If I don’t play along, your arousal is shot,

but a sculpture for your perusal is something I’m not.

The crude tainted welcome when you beckon, “Come in”.

When did being a woman make me less of a human?

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