You looked at my face, the weight of my breasts, the sway of my hips- I watched you lick your lips. You thought “This is worth touching, taming, keeping. I wouldn’t mind burying myself in that earth every night.” But you missed the scars on my knuckles and the knives in my pockets. You failed to notice, but I caught your measure in a moment; my teeth can taste the thinness of your coddled boy’s skin.
My bones are iron, steel; ore forged in the furnace of takers pulling from me what they never earned. Hungry boys like baby birds with their wide open mouths: mindlessness has no home here, and you are an unguided appetite in my house. You just saw the prettysoft, something to sink your teeth into… and yet your mettle would melt in my mouth, I need sturdier stuff than you’re made of.