Your hands
Felt so dangerous
As they traced the damage
And made me nervous
If you can't handle blood
Please stop buying me
It became so custom
Selling my anatomy
In grotesque abstract
And molding alabaster
They said I was beautiful
But only the night after
They even paid me to vomit
And sold me to rougher lips
But the drugs were endless
So I refused to spit
You'll find me on stage
Dancing with death
With receipts on my wrists
And stockholm syndrome breath
©venomocity
M