“Good girls”

“Bad girls”

9 and 8 letter boxes.

What an easy reduction

That burns away all the color

And flavor of a woman,

Like fine wine,

Heated and bubbled

Until it’s sticky and burnt,

Glued to the pan

Like rubber.

What a stuck way to think.

Honesty would suit it better

I don’t think ‘good girls’ exist

Not to them at least

To those who say ‘female’ and ‘broad’

And the “bad girls” fans

Who are too scared know themselves

Too buried to let a mere woman know them

And judge them for the weak man they are,

As they scoff at women

And cry men are oppressed

Because they are too incompetent 

To find someone to love

And too dumb to understand

Love is not ownership