I’m pleading high standards weeded
out of gender sample types,
I’ll double cross and joke and read
your man that’s trying to be male.
Honestly your honesty’s a story
Your thrusting to my syndrome where
and when you choose to have a cunt.
You’ll floss and wax away, exonerate
in time to bear again.
Honestly your honesty’s a story
And I’m half as guilty as a giver,
a double standard goes as far as
being a punching winner,
the contraceptive moves towards a
trusting oral killer,
promiscuous described out loud by
overbearing failures.
And her interpretation will suffer
the more you look away,
what’s good to get is not an object
you moment you go
and I’ve a fetish,
I’ve a fetish for weakness,
handed down,
handed down like a limp wrist.