Blood On My Good Boots

By irreplaceable chaos

black little thing with fishnet stockings below
i dressed up all gothic and cute just for you

you walk right by to go get a drink
then you sit on the couch and stare
and make me wait

i took the time to do my hair and shave some off
put on the makeup that i hate so much
barely hiding what i have to offer under itchy lace

still you sit and stare
look at your drink then look at me
and call me your little whore

whore...it runs thru my head the meaning
you are not paying me to be here
you are the only one i want to fuck

still sitting patting your leg
"come here...come here my lil whore"

calling me like a dog...
fuck you...cant believe i let it get this far
ill finish what i started here

your thinking your gonna get some now
thinking im gonna fuck you hard
until the stiletto twisted and your drink hit the floor
did you learn never to call a bitch a whore


...damnit you got blood on my good boots

Unauthorized Copying Is Prohibited. Ask the author first.
© 2007 irreplaceable chaos
Published on Saturday, November 24, 2007.     Filed under: "Rage" and "Poetry"
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Comments on "Blood On My Good Boots"

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  • Insatiable On Friday, April 11, 2008, Insatiable (47)By person wrote:

    **it

  • Insatiable On Friday, April 11, 2008, Insatiable (47)By person wrote:

    This has to be one of my favorite poems. Ever. I read it and it has been stuck in my mind. I LOVE IT! How wonderfully is all flows. Love it love it love it. xxInsatiable

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