don't speak to me don't be polite to me
your f*cking smile conceals your violence
its no longer private - our bodies for sale
you think we don't know what's going on here?
how do we fit into this?
i saw her face falling onto the floor
a magazine, to fool men into wanting more
a neverending cycle of pit stop love and confusion is pure
joy for capitalists
they know your scent, they've planned everything out
a haunted house with a vile bubbly soundtrack
snap snap
beauty is defined by people with a need to scare and manipulate
her body is formed as a commodity
a pricetag? this person is not property
her body for sale
the right time
they know when to strike
how do we fit into this?