Honey, baby

Oh darling, I’ve known men like you since you wouldn’t believe.
And that honey trap of yours, that sweet voice, meek face does nothing.
I see the snarl right under, I see the tears, despair.
You’re tongue tied to the bible psalms in church while you glance at the choir girl knees,
yeah, I see you.
There is a devil inside your stomach, she sings of holy honey and you twist the song to use.
And you lean, across the table to someone who doesn’t know it’s the soft fingers that tear you apart.
You sing holy to her, sing smooth, honey, baby.
Oh, I know men like you, know your paper thin masks and rubber like grins.
And if I ever see you glance down here again I’ll show you what those men made me in to.


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