What its really Like

In the night they seek young girls for their amusement sometimes they hunt with bait dripping with honey sweet words nice calls pretty gifts they crave injustice like its a bigmac chew it slowly to make it last longer Other times they hunt like wolves ready to devour keen to the smell of fear and blood those times are drunk with violence shot glasses filled with punches and cries there is no where to flee from their anger What is it like? It's like drowning coming up periodically for air and being violently plunged back into the water It's like slow perpetual death as described in an EMily dickinson or Sylvia Plath poem It's like never wanting to see relatives again because you feel so dirty It's like accusing stares It's like the night covering all the light cuz in the night they seek young girls for their amusement AND NO ONE IS THERE TO STOP THEM