Twisted Girl

Twerked by a twisted turnkey
she had gone unloved for too long
left to rot in remorse of depravity
her contortion was beset by gravity
a heart wrung out like laundry left
to air dry slowly blistered and bereft
to buckle and revolve in a quandrous qualm that
had spun a swizzle stick into her cerebrum
in her palm was naught but empty exudation
that preserved its prototype in proliferation
to a profanitous curr with no irreverance
an incivilitous game was vexing severance
an embryonic eidolon escaped her grasp
that was love so fleeting it didn't last
constrained by lack with no alleviation
an apogee imprisoned by her retaliation
against her inner stronghold of flagellation
far-reaching was its stalwart supplication
its blatant blood thinning had a stark effect
on her porous morality so lost in disrespect
how she wanted to turn captivity on its head
that she finagled factition with nothing of dread
to those that had given her precepts a spin
she strapped on a scheme in a high-minded whim
her pernicious pegging was perversely puissant
the push-button pejorative so purgative a rant
into a bent over and bruised misconception
that never had wanted to see done her inflections
so febrile a figurehead foreshadowed by fibrillation
the psychogenetic screw that stripped its fabrication
she took along everything into a helix that spiralled askew
with hardly enough strength to turn the screw...