They

They twist and turn,
They pierce your skin,
Like silk sliding across your thighs,
They taunt you and abuse you,
They think they can misuse you,
It ended long ago.

You left your innocence on the corner of the street,
In the bedroom of the lions’ den,
Where the growls of the older men,
Scream for more meat.

The sheets are stained,
Like your skin and your heart,
Your mind is tainted,
And your body no more,
It's nothing but used,
And nothing it's used for.

So long,
Have you felt the wind,
Whip across your bare heart,
Its beating echoing the cages,
Inside you.
No one hears,
The echoes within,
but they're there,
Haunting what's left of your mind.