Crown The Night

She painted her lips red and face pink.

 Just the way they like it.

They,

They make her evening bread

They make her winter blanket.

Wide and wider, her wings itched to soar

High into infinity.

But they,

They were lured into the halo between her legs,

Yet, wise enough she was

To breathe out the last whit of sanity

Through her skin that once again

 

Was an alien to her soul.

She  plugged a smile to her lips

Planked a sway to her hips.

A tag that crowned her

‘The queen of nights’

But the truth is

It was rape at her own consent.

With that truth tied down her chest

She put on her heels

To take the walk of shame

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