Sick Little Toys Poem by Samantha Stough

The outline of her mouth so sleazy
The cut of her cleavage screams easy
It reminds me if some sort of dark dent in the earth
She was destined to be a sick little toy at birth

Those arms more closely resemble twigs from a dead tree
She’s so paranoid she’ll have no future if she tries to eat
Her heart just as starved, and her legs always spread
She says she’s stuck this way but it’s all in her head

Decent people find it disgusting, but the ingrate will always be there to drool
Sex for money, money for drugs…the classic exchanges from tool to tool
She’s the queen of the alleyways, always searching for a king
She used to be a human, now reduced to nothing’s everything

Someone out there collects all these sick little toys
Keeps them in a box, turning sorrows to their joys
Indifferent and grinning, addicted and sinning
It’s the end of the world, but it’s only just beginning