SLUT. You ask about my dog You're turned off by my hips You point at the thin lines And tear me down You unbuckle your belt From those designer jeans Ask for your own comfort, Never mine You're all the same Black lens and a Tahoe Pour drinks for pre-teen girls at the table He smiles, the furnace is off Obsession with women, "tits or ass" he asks Says he's a good man, but he's only got eyes for the curves There's nothing else on his mind "Baby, won't you take me home?" Where he'll get on top of a stranger She's half-drunk, brunette Some motherfucker pulls out a camera You wanted to have them both You wanted her on her knees You want to rip her clothes off And give her what you think she needs And you don't love her "Please, don't you want me?" Coerce, 15 All over her And your next one on Halloween Where you'll convince her it's her, not the other around the corner And if you beg for it, maybe he'll love you Maybe he'll stop taking your photo And pretending that, he's the only one looking, touching, needing Where's the bottle? He asks, Your eyes flicker You show him how grown-up you can be