So as not to alienate the countless hordes of male posters who are surely clinging to my every word, I think I should note that the views expressed in the following piece do not reflect a belief that the nature of all men is predatory and manipulative. This poem merely reflects all the ones I've come in brief physical contact with.


Miss Lead's Manifesto of Passive-Aggressive Individualism


Man
Oh, man
I love you, really
Listen up, though
You can
Take me to the movies
Buy me frozen drinks
In the hopes that I will blow you
Tell me what you normally do/think/say to
All the other girls
But, not in my sweet case
Deny the things that bother you are what I think they are
And, order me to order much more for myself
In the confidence that that won't work
Fuck me as the bacon burns
And, pull my hair
Then, run away
You think you've left me soggy
When, I've charred you to a crisp
Devoured you like nothing
With no chance for you to notice

Trust me

Georgie
Oh, my porgie
I miss you, really
But, I've built immunities
To your X-ray glance
With leaden giants guarding strongholds
Fortresses of eyes
Bullets that aren't aimed to kill
They're aim is to plant poison in your mind
And, make you think I care enough about a win to whine
And, I'm so fair
That you can't see it

Trust me

Captain
Oh, my captain
I am you
I, sometimes, wish I got the credit
I still boast the mental medals
I know my own monicker
You must think that mine is.. "Conquered!"
As you drive your flag
Into my sodden land
Accept my bounty
Feed me lies
Vows and sighs
But, you will never make me bride
I like you, man
But, not enough to want your hand
Clamped tightly on my clammy wrist
And, not enough to bear your name or kids

Trust me

Boy
Oh, boy
I thank you, really
For your kind pretense
But, you won't
Beat me
At a mind sport
When that wasn't my intent
My offense
And, my defense
I guess it's wrong
I guess it's bad
To be a shifting shape of bull
But, you're the animal
I'm just the waste
I'm more content than you can face
And, for this, you're content
Let's let it be, at that
It's for the best

Just trust me
If someday I should surrender
You'd not want what you would have


If guns are made for shooting, then skulls are made to crack.
You’ve never seen a better Faig than with a bullet in his back.