Victims of the Symptoms

Young skin

A beautiful girl paying you attention

Delivering your fantasy on a silver platter

This is a dream for you

Your sexual depravities finally being met

No one is going to make you feel bad about them

No one can make you feel as bad as I do

This is not a dream for me

This is a symptom

A sign of how far I have fallen

A dead give away of how truly fucked I am

This is my nightmare

I don’t want this

I do it anyway

Betraying my body how it has been before

But at least this time it’s under my control right?

At least this time I’ve sought it out

I’ve put myself in this place

Maybe I’m in control after all

A farce, I know

All I have done is make myself a victim again

Maybe this is what I like

But this time I’m not a victim you feel bad for

This time I’m a whore

A whore who knew what she was doing

A whore who put herself in this situation

A whore who enjoys the illusion of someone caring

So she carries on

This time she can only be mad at herself

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This is one of my first poems ever. I would appreciate any feedback, no matter how harsh it is.

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