Momma's Good Boy, You Say?

Some people weave their lies with smooth words, hoping to shape you into something you’re not. They prey on your vulnerability, believing you’re an easy target. But what happens when the truth rises, and the lies fade away?

Good boy.
The words slip off your tongue
Like oil on water,
Masking the truth
That clings to your fingers—
Dirty, grasping, cold.

You called yourself my friend,
Whispered your way into my cracks,
Where monsters used to live,
And built a new kind of hell.

A woman, you thought,
Too fragile, too broken,
A low flame; easy to snuff.
But you forget:
A smouldering ember burns hotter than fire.

You sought to carve me into shame,
Your hands measuring my worth
Against the curve of your lust.
But this skin—my skin—
Is not yours to claim.

Do you see me now?
I’ve stepped out of the shadows you cast,
Standing taller than the lies you tell yourself.
Your "Momma’s good boy" act
Won’t save you from the truth:
You are no man.

And I—
I am no one’s prey,
No one’s guilt to carry.
My worth is a fortress
You will never breach.

So crawl back
To your hollowed-out pride,
And don’t look for me
In the cracks.

I’ve sealed them all.

No longer a victim to their games, you rise from the darkness they tried to keep you in. The cracks they thought they'd exploit are now sealed, and the fortress of your worth stands strong—untouchable, unbreakable.

Comments

My Tips Get The Job Done

Boy, you need gold coins and chains, To feel that silky touch. Honey, being with you meant My soul needed a retouch... You might like maple syrup, But I could never build anything with that softwood. It was like babysitting way into my adulthood... You think your presence made it feel like Niagara? Boy, it was drier than the Sahara. Who gave you the license to operate heavy machinery? You never deserved to be anywhere near this sanctuary. Asking women to "blow" you a kiss, When you are the one too "slow" to catch up, And all you are good for is a diss... You need to work because you don't know how real FORCE works. You get high on your stupid WARS — How would you ever know the language of the STARS ? Isn't it funny you were trying to teach me about fingers? When I can get myself to sing more with my ladyfingers ...

Game Of Fire and Ice

Hey Mister, Why won't you play a game of Twister? I promise I won't play coy. Won't you love it if I were your only toy? You can be the Lion in the boardroom, Then make me roar in the bedroom. Let's play the game of fire and ice. You bring the sugar, and I get the spice. I am praying by myself these nights, Drowning my moans when the city sleeps tight. We can play the game of Super Sonic, And then have our own race over some gin and tonic. So find me, like an app can find a phone. No, I won't bring out my Medusa and turn you into stone. I have been getting over my fears, Learned to make my tears into spears. You can take me as you like. We can go until we hear the third strike.

Call Your Wife... Call Your Mother...

Call your wife. Call your mother. Tell them how you talk to women like me when no one's watching— But of course, I'm the Outspoken B tch*, and you, the Outstanding Gentleman in your suit and tie. But sure— I’d rather be outclass than be hung like sea bass on your trophy wall, smiling silent while you call me “crass.” Your twisted kinks. Your polished lies. You think I won’t roar? That I’ll tuck in my shadow just to keep your sin safe? I own my dark. Loud. Proud. You will not cage me with your guilt-laced chains. If you were so happy choosing her over me, Then go flirt with her . Not me. Don’t you dare come here with your diluted apologies and leftover lust. I’d rather be The villain in your story Than your sidepiece in silence. Because I remember— You were a playboy then , You’re still a playboy now , And every time you smile and say “We’re still friends”… God, I puke a little. You know your name. Don’t play lost boy. Don’t hide behind your “Good intentions.” I used to care...

Cruising Alone

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