You’d never manage to decrease their value

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I wonder who you’d have become

Had you tasted your own medicine.

Would you still drive from one girl

To the next?


Tell them how much you adore them

Whilst you have the ending in mind already?

Why could you never say that sex was all you

Wanted to do? Why invent fairy tales?

And you think of them as little girls.


Maybe you should have stuck to playing with

Whatever you played with instead of embodying

Someone you could never be, doing things you

Thought you were good at just because you increasingly lured

Your way in. In secret.


They’d scratch each other’s eyes out or

Just had no idea that they’d coincided in your sick universe.


You were so scared to be badmouthed, you’d send them on

The scaffold instead for something that you both did together.

You could never be as thick-skinned as the girls you messed with.


Sadly, it only took a guy like you for them to impale one another

For your artificial niceties. You cooked them and then let them rot

Trusting a kind of love that was never there and had no name.


You’d make their stomachs burn.

You made them obey, you seduced them into submission,

Spreading their legs when you needed it, you’d

Always assume you’d be on the same page.


And they slowly felt so tiny and powerless and exchangeable

That they thought they had to let you in, get it over with,

They wanted to please you after all, you hit that note,

That note that had always existed in their bodies and

You took it further.


Distorted it, made it yours, you’d ring the bells,

They’d jump, brokenheartedly.


You guilt-tripped them into absorbing you, gaslighted them into

Your traps, into your crotch, and it would never be enough.

You’d always remain a gluttonous boy who never heard the word “no”.


You erased it. You never heard it. You killed it.


You took what you wanted and needed.

Desire was a thing that just had to follow.

Once you ransacked their bodies.

Nothing you knew of lust and intimacy.

You were addicted and shallow, numbed yourself against the world

You lived in.

You wanted to set everything afire

Because you had already been burnt-out.

woman making hand sign
Photo by Nicolas Postiglioni on

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