Lion’s mane flowing in the dry wind.
Skin burnt red, flames of flaking peeling sin.
Red A painted across her lips
Complete loss of innocence.
A conscience choice to leave behind
Every joy of guiltless life.
Teenage lust, a vaginal tower
To climb like a fairy tale prince,
Leave your sword sheathed
Or get paid by the hour…
Decisions for survival
Sell your soul for dollar.
Joy smells good at midnight.
Morning mold is ripe with regret.
Stain your satin With fulfillment.
Pay in the morning to forget.