The Price of All of This

Little girls in rose and pearl, lining up to throw themselves at paper feet-
Pretty pink ropes around their necks, picking at food, and dropping like flies.
Little boys in green and blue, line up, told to throw themselves at little girls,
Black chains around their feet, clambering for affection – taught to take love, not make it.

Young girls in blush and curls, have gotten lost in mirrors and the negative spaces of perfect,
Dying for less, wanting for more – stretched skin over broken bones, trying to fit into the mould of normal
‘One size fits all’
Girls touching lips are perverted by men- love can’t exist without them
Strapping boys holding phones and guns – taught by their mamas to shoot, or taught to record and run. Black and white, but there are no grey areas here,
Still heckling at their ‘baby’, love isn’t for us guys, her friends are whores but he’s a king,
Pulling out, dodging emotions – crying in pillows, coming out.

Women from white to black, in grey suits, fighting for a dollar-
Chipped polish hanging off bitten down fingers, still picking at food, and falling off roofs.
Men in black and white buildings, sit in glass boxes, enjoying every cent-
Fraying cuffs, and too-big shoes, now they expect little girls to throw themselves at their feet.
Bathroom stalls painted in white powder and salt water-

Same day, same wife, same death, same life;

‘Unfulfilled never tasted so bitter’

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