Poets

Bad Boy Syndrome

Naomi:

I have a syndrome,

A bad bad Syndrome.

Laced with envy,

Of the bad bad minstrel.

I wish I can take back,

The bad bad pencil,

That shaved me until I was stricken,

Of my bad bad candle.

The candle was hush,

It blew out with the wind,

You came in like a rush,

Stabbed me out,

Pricked me in.

I told you to push,

Then you go again,

Deeper,

Like boys could never be let in.

Made me even sicker.

I screamed,

With lust,

I wasn't good good anymore,

I was a whore,

In fact,

I wanted it even more.

I have bad bad syndrome,

For a bad bad boy,

Even though I'm a smart girl,

I made a bad bad choice.

And now I'm sitting here like,

"Fuck" what did I do?

Should I get on my knees and pray,

Or start sucking him for round 2?

I wanted to cry,

I wanted to hide,

I wanted to run away forever.

But the bad bad boy,

Will always be there,

And i'll remember.