The Host

Her eyes aren’t hollow holes A smoke and mirror trick She’s filled with gasoline Not as soulless as you may think She spites bitter memories Her skin flares Itch away the pain Raw from you picking away Sand paper could feel better Than the words you run along her Close your eyes You won’t want to watch this hurricane Sucked dry of sweetness She’s lost her sugarcane Hailing bullets like champagne Snorting gunpowder like lines of cocaine Mining like a slave trader She’ll go unmissed Until you need your next fix Then you’ll send the dogs to find miss Clap up and down She makes noise like a captive Like music to your ears She knows the words you want to hear Gutter loving whore Just keeps coming back for more Desperate for a taste It’s why she can’t escape