This Kid Is Going To Make It

The cocaine addicted whore

Who used to be an innocent girl

Is trying to get me to have sex with her.

She insists on blowing lines

On my bedroom desk;

Diving into a world of speed, and race car dreams

That all end up flaccid and dead


Just like me if I were who I used to be.

I sit and write all of this down as she spills it out

Onto my dirty windowsill.

"Well if you won't do it, then I will, because I am;

Bold, Busty, and Beautiful."

And it's true she is, but her head is full of numbing agents

Who sometimes lie to her, quite often.

Insufflation banging on my eardrums

piques my interest as to what the expression on her face is like,

and so I look up and gaze

Into her starlit eyes.

"Why are you here?"

She just curses and blows another line,

Then takes off her shirt, and undoes her bra.

Her pants are already on my floor.. They look unwashed.

She looks unwashed,

And the sound of snort, and the chunks inside

Must scratch at her nose while she hits that shit again.

Her breasts look guilty,

Her ribs are almost visible,

She rubs her nose and starts to twitch.

This girl I knew was innocent once.

Not now though, I think as she crawls onto my lap

With her breasts in my face

I look up to the cigarette stained smile of a girl

Who worships a white devil.

She rubs her nose.

"Why are you here?"

She moves off and curses again,

This time to me, and my desire to point out the fact that

She has the mindset of all other girls in the entirety of the world.

The drugged ones I mean.

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