This poem is a collaboration with poetess Aleksina Tetiana. You may know her better as Unbolt.
You can’t wear a shirt with the words ‘Bad Girl’ in bold and a Prada bag hanging off your bangled arm and bling-bling knuckled fingers. I can list the stuff inside your brand-name feedbag with closed eyes. Firstly. Coelho. A paperback. (You adore vanilla quotes.) Audio Chopra– there's only one way a girl like you navigates that upwardly mobile maze. This said with no irony. A piece of paper. A worn cinema ticket to the world premiere of 'The Devil Wears Prada'. Why? It's your holy scripture. Valium six pills. You think life's a tv show with a mean laugh track. Anxious you swallow one, two. Don't doubt it's anything else. Pink lip gloss, of course, because your overworked lips should shine on selfies... And please, wipe that dry white spot at the corner of your mouth! A pack of wet wipes to soak up cum on your back. You're careful like that. You're not loose, you lie to him. Bitch knows how to make a man. Should I continue? I know you from the ground up. Your current ringtone. Your preferred brand of tampons. You're an open book for me... ...and I hate you, slut! At the clearance sale you grabbed from under my nose the LAST cut-price Prada bag and MY SIZE of the pink shirt!
© unbolt & listentothebabe
*This poem is sponsored by Prada.
Image by Vahram Muratyan