Panic's Whore

Oh, throbbing fright,

Why do you inhabit my chest?

In the middle of the night

You strike my breast.

•

You invade my ear

With your erotic whispers.

But only you can hear

My impotent whimpers.

•

You make me your slut,

You slam my body to the ground.

Ghastly hands grip my gut

Of which you press and pound.

•

You fill my mouth and throat

So that I gag and choke.

And while I struggle you gloat

Of all the people you broke.

•

You leave while I pretend

I'm not covered in your bile.

Filled in every end

With your satisfaction so vile.

•

I lay down lame,

So weak and sore.

And bathed in shame

On my bedroom floor.

I know what I became...

I became Panic's whore.

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