To Be Used

It’s not the right time or the right place to spread my legs
but I do it anyway, attracting your gaze.
I know you want me, my thighs, soaking through.
I’m a magnet for men.
I’m too pretty for the things I let them do.

At first, they are so gentle, but almost intuitively
they switch on me. They see my weakness
and they scavenge me like birds upon unwilling prey
except I tend to prefer it this way.
I like the way they tear me apart and use my tender flesh
to make themselves feel good.
It’s not a gift I’m giving them,
this feeling of being understood.
I’m taking from them what I need.
I find the abuse freeing.
I love to nurture all their greed,
giving until I’m bleeding.

It’s not the right time to claw and growl,
to cum like an animal,
to forget all my fear and give myself over to him,
to all of their needs, to be filled with their
lust to the motherfucking brim.
Drink me. Eat me. Fuck me until I can’t breathe.
Let me bask in the sexiness, drink in the fear.
Give me over to their need to
talk about me as if I’m not there.