He Who Picks Your Petals - Poem

In school you're taught many things,
One of them being sex.

When a girl loses her virginity while she's still in school,
She's called a slut.

When a boy loses his virginity while he's still in school,
He's called a man.

Sex in school isn't an experience shared between two lovers,
It isn't about getting to know one another,
Or becoming closer to your partner.

Sex is a competition,
It's the hunger games,
The game of thirst that can only be quenched by what lies between girls' legs.

You're taught that your legs are an object,
You're wanted because their lips drip with starvation,
In school it's all about the body not about the respect.

And you really thought he loved you?
He's just getting started,
He can play you,
He can make you his.

But you see he's not too bothered,
He's not willing to overprotect,
You're just an object,
He wouldn't find it hard,
To toss your body aside and find another body,
Without giving you regard.

And they'll tell you,
They'll all tell you:
"Honey, your body is bomb,
But if you loved me,
You'd show me,
With that bomb body,
Instead you're treating us like stand-up comedy."

They'll pick at your petals,
You'll be asking the same questions:
"Love me?"
"Love me not?"

But they're all just thirsty,
And they'll pick and pick at you,
Until there's no more petals to pick,
There's no more trust to give,
But why didn't you see it to begin with?
Why are you so blinded by this one-sided love story?
You're giving them what they wanted,
They wanted your body for glory.

So wake up little flower,
Don't let Autumn keep picking your precious petals,
Save that trust,
Not for a boy full of lust,
But for a boy that's patiently waiting for you to wake up.

~Virgo x