Skinny she's so plump and sweet, Hips seducing, bones protruding -- Perfect pretty little girl. Seductress of skin and bones, Breasts inviting a suck and squeeze On the sandy beach of sun-glistened bodies laid out like candy bars, Sweet and full of oozing caramel Just waiting to be eaten and sucked. Skinny says she wants a grab and pull, Opens her creamy thick thighs -- an invitation to feed on her fly-eaten carcass. She strips a piece of meat from her arm, offering him a sacrifice of blood and flesh. Blesses him with communion, Feeds him, fills him, quenches his thirst and hunger. Skinny takes inventory of her gains and losses Diligently reviews her budget for the week, Aware of the necessary charity, Desiring gifts to the world, Ascetically flogging herself, Shredding herself to sell her meat in the fresh market. Skinny little girl notes her excess spending, Though perceived by her buyers as a careful saver of funds. The prodigal youth, they say, How lucky, they praise and laud her in her assiduous attempts to save. Skinny, though, in darkened chambers, hides her promiscuity, Fucking men in sweat-filled rooms, Collecting dollar bills and throwing them at pills and needles To feed her insatiable habit, She falls unconscious under the weight of countless men Chomping into her like rare, bleeding steaks to hard bone. Skinny turns to dust, outspent in money and torn flesh Partied till the end, Enjoying every moment of pleasure, Taking pride in her outward perfection Even until and throughout their distribution of her thigh, leg, and breast, Skinny lives for the thrill, Exists for the luxury, the beauty outside with the dirty inside, Skinny is licked, chewed, savored, Sweet at first, but found to have a bitter aftertaste. Skinny sought the thrill, Lived to a proud death, an inscription of her devout charity and giving to mankind.

My first time, I found myself raped, strapped down on sterilized floors Once stinking of stinking flesh and dried blood of bodies past, Sedated by bitter pink pills, I fell into a foggy coma, Unaware of the sleep that would tame me to satiate their desires for plump suppleness, All smiles and complacent contentment. After that night, I curled up in my own warm -- then loose -- womb, Cuddling and rocking myself in recovery. I searched for my innocence again, having been forged into a woman before I was even a girl. I lost my sleep and forfeited my dreams to the thoughts of men seeking a sweet and untouched girlhood Dressing me in red satin, Fucking me on a floor of red petals and cheap cologne. Drugging me with milk and sour injections. When I returned from my stupor, I saw the faces of my perpetrators viewing my pearl broken from its oyster, They walked away in disappointment, Having had their fill, satisfied with their victory. My first time was a cloudy memory, Obscured by anonymous, impersonal encounters. We never spoke again of those times, Never made eye contact in the open streets, Sometimes I can't believe this happening, Convincing myself that it was a mere dream -- no reality. My first time was a rape, And now I seek escape from its memory. My first time made me a one-night, perfumed, cheap whore, Sold for the satisfaction of faceless men. It shall never be spoken of again -- The innocence never existed, and yet was sought and exploited.