Wherever I go, men follow;
With their dreamy eyes and lustful lips,
Displaying dirty desires, which
I can't always swallow.
Some of them, I do entertain.
Citing my youth, that loves carnal things.
Yet there are a lot with whom,
any interaction I do refrain.
Some men touch my butt without consent,
Some want it at any cost.
Some tell me I am not their type,
Without me even trying to
woo them in the first place.
With men on my mind,
And a lustful lot behind,
Where do I find my peace?
To embrace the love that I seek.
They'll tell me that I am just bluffing,
But this cycle seems to be never ending.
Seems futile of me in trying to escape,
The toxic men, whom
Unknowingly some time before,
I myself desired.
The abandonment trauma and codependency
From my childhood,
Which I carried forward well into my youth;
Didn't let me realise,
Of how deep I was drowning.
Filling my lungs with their toxic brine;
Believing that in them I will find my salvation,
Not realising that I was the fool on the celluloid.
It's not my fault that I love my body.
My skin radiates of youth,
And I just want to dance and party.
Call me a slut, a whore if you may.
I am free to exercise my freedom,
My rights, and your toxic comments
definitely won't stop me.