I'm my own whore, really

You're just renting me for a couple

of lifetimes. My skirt is only

as accomodating as your

compensating fingertips bid

my thighs to allow it

to be. Did you know that?

Because if you did, you

would be helping me toward

burying myself in the lies

I've tried so hard to sell,

the ones that turn the buyers

into something more like sponsors,

because I horde the product

and keep it for myself.

I suppose the time has come

to be blunt:

I couldn't deny you.

But you knew that, you

statue of a dream, you

unyielding and merciless piece

of (whose?) work, you knew

I would not take goodbye.

And someday, when your stone

eyes move to look at me, truly,

so will your arms, toward my

heart, with a chisel in hand.

Of course, it's yours.

But like I said,

it's a lie that I'll only

be your rental property.

I'm more like stolen goods,

the most secure of such things,

and I'll be your whore forever.

I'm my own whore, really

You're just renting me for a couple

of lifetimes. My skirt is only

as accomodating as your

compensating fingertips bid

my thighs to allow it

to be. Did you know that?

Because if you did, you

would be helping me toward

burying myself in the lies

I've tried so hard to sell,

the ones that turn the buyers

into something more like sponsors,

because I horde the product

and keep it for myself.

I suppose the time has come

to be blunt:

I couldn't deny you.

But you knew that, you

statue of a dream, you

unyielding and merciless piece

of (whose?) work, you knew

I would not take goodbye.

And someday, when your stone

eyes move to look at me, truly,

so will your arms, toward my

heart, with a chisel in hand.

Of course, it's yours.

But like I said,

it's a lie that I'll only

be your rental property.

I'm more like stolen goods,

the most secure of such things,

and I'll be your whore forever.