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
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