tale from a femmefatale

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And to all you fairy tale lovers, That places self-sacrifice like a gold badge on the truth sash, Claiming inseparable, crying that love saves... Condoning of his tripped up words, pasts, latent remarks; I'd sneer and throw my down casting glance, Sigh for your neglect to own a steal backbone. I'll tell you my dears, Species of stilettos and ivory bodies: The saturated myth of "true love" be the prediction of an oxymoronic prophet, For nothing can be pinned upon the wall outside your own realm. Should you lay out your heart in payment of the phrase, I daresay, foolish child, I'll give you a fancy funeral After you witness the pangs of emotional suicide In the form of a naive, grasping romantic. Here, let me whisper my tales of a pain-paved road, Adopting the tactics of cold eyed pride, Take and take. Look on the walls of bronzed and broken men, Tortured to my will and their willing. I think the dates are below. Had I written down the etiquette, (and in it include the slender silver holder) Calling it "Nude in Pin Stripes", They would have been rescued, those poor groveling girls, With their tongues out like wagging bitches, Letting him put the rude paper to her nose, The disgrace! Why, he should slip into the cap of the shoe shiner in your presence, Volunteer to be given amnesia of past lovers. And should he forget to swallow his worthless reminiscence, How difficult is it to walk out in mid sentence To cuff the next object? Show that you are not there to honor him with a second place medal, Then take to his imprudent feelings with a callous ice pick, Or perhaps compress him on the pillory with the mocking guilt Till he kills his senses. Let me give you a sincere indication ladies, If I put out my cigarette on his hand, Would he still smile and offer to re-light it? Really, Snuff his presence, and light your esteem, Place high your nose and thin your brows, And stamp out his loosely dares; The weaker of the species shouldn't be you.

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