the_minx

she doesn't want to pull the trigger
she wants to call someone
but she knows she wont have an explination
and whoever she calls will just roll their eyes
so she sits with the gun to her head weeping

it takes her crying voice-message for him to call her back
it takes her legs open for him to care
it takes a bullet through her head
for anyone to realize she wants and needs help

she's sick of the life she's made for herself
she's sick of selling herself short, topless
so a desperate lonley man can get his quick fix.
she's sick of surrounding herself with people
who never cared and never will.
she's tired of being a sex object. but thats all
she knows.

You push her away, because you're afraid.
Afraid there might be something worth wild there.
Afraid she'll make your mind work.
Then again, she can't make you do anything you don't want to do.

The clock is ticking.
The heart is breaking, slowly.
One day, when you wake up,
and see her in the obituaries...
you're whole life is going to change.

when is everyone going to get off their selfish asses
and do something?