She snorted a fat rail off the back of the urinal. Scraping the remnants up with her pinky and rubbing it all over her gums. She found it hard to maintain her dainty facade while she was under the influence.
She looked at the other girls with disgust. All thier missing teeth, cellulite and stretchmarks, loud, drunken, incoherent voices blending in with the tacky decor. Little did she know, she was only a couple of years away from becoming just like them. Replaced by fresher faces, with the same ideas, the same tastes and the same looks and personalities.
There was no shortage of farm fresh T&A in this shithole. Piles and piles of primped and perfumed flesh, teetering atop cheap platform heels for what it was worth. The guys shucked out the green out of lust and pity. As long as it wasen't their daughter or sister and thank god it isin't my wife. The loud jocks, the lonley old fat men, the dykes and stupid fucking goth boyfreinds. They all wanted to tear off a chunk of that mysterey meat. That freakshow. Those gaping holes.
Drugs are good for girls who want to slide into that facade. It makes attaining those mistakes even easier. It turns every reason into an excuse. And every excuse into a reason. Until nothing matters anymore. That fat slob that got kicked out of the club for shoving his beer glass against your cunt while you spread it wide in his face will be another reason later tonight.
Another bloated escort spreads her wares lazily in some filthy hotel room. Poking at desensitized flesh while the boom box blares shitty crap-rap, R&B. Did you get mad when he came in your face? Did you feel suddenly worthless and defiled? It wasen't supposed to happen, but here, it will always happen. Reasons don't mean anything. When you cram that dirty syringe into your arm and feel a little more than high, a little more than sick, a little more than who you are......
She looked at the other girls with disgust. All thier missing teeth, cellulite and stretchmarks, loud, drunken, incoherent voices blending in with the tacky decor. Little did she know, she was only a couple of years away from becoming just like them. Replaced by fresher faces, with the same ideas, the same tastes and the same looks and personalities.
There was no shortage of farm fresh T&A in this shithole. Piles and piles of primped and perfumed flesh, teetering atop cheap platform heels for what it was worth. The guys shucked out the green out of lust and pity. As long as it wasen't their daughter or sister and thank god it isin't my wife. The loud jocks, the lonley old fat men, the dykes and stupid fucking goth boyfreinds. They all wanted to tear off a chunk of that mysterey meat. That freakshow. Those gaping holes.
Drugs are good for girls who want to slide into that facade. It makes attaining those mistakes even easier. It turns every reason into an excuse. And every excuse into a reason. Until nothing matters anymore. That fat slob that got kicked out of the club for shoving his beer glass against your cunt while you spread it wide in his face will be another reason later tonight.
Another bloated escort spreads her wares lazily in some filthy hotel room. Poking at desensitized flesh while the boom box blares shitty crap-rap, R&B. Did you get mad when he came in your face? Did you feel suddenly worthless and defiled? It wasen't supposed to happen, but here, it will always happen. Reasons don't mean anything. When you cram that dirty syringe into your arm and feel a little more than high, a little more than sick, a little more than who you are......