This is a story, a pained sigh in the housing of a page.
A hundred pair of rolled eyes have bound this.
Left it sealed as tight as that hidden box of intellect that small girls pack away with the sound of the plastic rustling on their first padded bra.
It’s a stark view, the female mind to the outside
What do you contribute?
Encasing your mind in concrete, lest it be discovered and picked clean.
Ten short moments
Ten ways to not be raped
Ten ways not be beaten beyond what you deserve
Ten ways to ensure that you are, after the age of ten, alive, dialled down, functioning and fully integrated.
Fucktoy Appreciative Pretty Muted Hesitant Chattel Accepting Sacrificing Forgiving Capitulating
From pigtails to rohypnol
This is the story of ten words to help you navigate, to fly under the dominating radar
To be the girl that is to be owned with a veil and a hymen intact, or at the very least a count under seven of previous owners.
A tale of ten small words to keep you small
To differentiate between Dolly and Doxie
Ho’ and Her.
Ten words preferable being fucked up the ass in an alleyway by a faceless stranger because he can and you can’t do a single thing to prevent it because you lost your way.
Distracted amongst the millions of words in the English language.