original sin

drawing his finger

at the length of my skirt

it won’t hurt, he says

but they don’t know

as they pass by

that I cradle his sin

between these ravished thighs

with my crimson lips

I unwittingly entice

his darkest vice

but they don’t see

when they pass by

that I pay the price

in these vacant eyes

the curve of my bosom

unknowingly tantalize

his noble guise

but they don’t listen

as they pass by

that I’ve lost my Eden

in these muffled cries

*sighs* I should get back to writing my essays...and yes, the whole Steubenville case just pushed me over the edge this week. 

I need to be that angry poetess again