VAGINA DENTATA
Just shut them pretty wet eyes
And think of blue skies
As this boyman
So repressed and socialised
Holds you still
With centuries of entitlement
With a lifetime
Of the fear inspired
By statistics
Oral histories
Passed down by mothers and just life
Block it out
Shut them pretty wet eyes
Feel them there teeth descend
As he struggles to get his dick hard
Poor fucked up soul
How could he possibly know
That this pussy got teeth now
Allow him to talk dirty
Blame you for his actions
Paint you flirty
In your fuck me boots
And short skirt
Smelling of rum n ginger
Bathed in tears
And smudged mascara
Calling you bitch, whore
Unaware of dentata
Poor fucked up soul
How could he possibly know
That this pussy got teeth now
Hear him coo as he rips at your pants
To reveal
That gateway to his unknown hell
Open your eyes and smile
Lick your lips and smile
As he prepares to complete this violation
Clock the look of confused
Trepidation
At the sudden shift in your expression
As you (willingly)
Pull your legs up
And arch your back
All the way up and over
Displaying that pussy
Like a cat
Poor fucked up soul
How could he possibly know
That this pussy got teeth now...
A cautionary tale
The #wordart i created below is a physical representation of the poem above...