Little Girl

I am a demon
Lurking and weaving through society
The only ones
Who see through my disguise
Of brown curls and soft cheeks
Are men who hide
Behind disguises of their own.

They see the girl before them
They want to braid her hair
Smooth her clothes
Tie her shoes
And treat her like a doll.

If I cry
One will hold me in his arms
Cradle and kiss
Stiff beneath his pants
Despite the broken child
Weeping softly in his lap.

His attention encourages my dependence to grow
To leave a bottomless pit in my chest
A pit of need
He convinces me to believe
Only he can fill.