Reward of Skin

I never understood why my peers

subjected themselves to boys who

craved their curves over their words,

boys who told them pretty lies

while staring straight into their eyes.

These boys will whisper

sweet nothings in your ear,

shower you in presents and tell you

anything you want to hear.

"For what?" you may ask,

"He loves me," you say,

and I guess that's just

the price you'll have to pay

for a reward of skin,

a few minutes of lust

before he takes off

and leaves you in the dust,

that boyish transparency

forever tainted by rust.

You craved the soul

of a boy who craved sin,

but one day, you'll meet a man

who makes you feel whole again.