Beauty In Blood

Her thighs held fingers prints of a soulless man
and she’s willing to give up hers if it will have him stay
just a little bit longer.
Poisons sit on top of pregnant eyes like the regret on top of a mother’s heart
she’s way past numb, and some say she’s given up her nine lives just to fix the one before
whore’s hung from her family tree like niggas, scars laced her back like a map of where to run
and I can honestly say I was a victim of hysterical blindness
mind this, his eyes were different under the stairwell light
I couldn’t make out the souls trapped behind his eyes
like cherry popper prizes, hands covered in blood from the women before I
now here I stand bruised like the whore before me
scarred like the bitches who ignored me and the questions that sang with no real truth
proved to me that shit ain’t always as fucked up as it seem
they can become much worse
so unable to save we enslave her, cradling innocence in scarred wombs hoping to leave a message of hope tattooed on the walls of my womb
warning little girls that they will be forced to be laves in single mattresses
misplace souls in tousled sheets, conduct tricks for trick the trade of becoming a trick
motherless daughters have been raised in a time where fatherless sons grow up
in a place when you aren’t worrying when your gonna get that next nut
I'm not saying that every game a man is playin ain’t worth watching but
women are beginning to give up their souls just to sit in the front row so
I plead on deaf ears hoping that she can hear me
Think, before placing all reactions and actions taking place between your thighs
and not behind your eyes.