whore

If I could stop the tingles

I would

Or the naseua

that drives my feet

But the fire that burns me

Is my only source of heat

If I could

would I?

But I'm dripping

down my thighs

And there's a fist that grabs my stomach

from the inside

Weakens my will

Turns my head in spins

And leaves me wanting

Some girls do it for the money

Me I'm always wanting

I do it for the shame

I'm wipping out my name

if I could

I would

But witness

the lines

cut cross my wrists

They rise from famin

The prospect of feast

Drag me through the streets

I feel money

touch me

Paper cuts me

But I'm always wanting

I rub my hand across my face

I'm hungry for the taste

I never set the pace

My flesh is seething

But never needing

I'll only call it wanting

And when the knife blade

Finally cuts me

I shall find it wanting