Her Response, "Kiss-My-Ass"

Ripped jeans and combat boots

Unorthodox thoughts and acid lips

She sits under hallowed trees and reads

Watching bystanders and wondering how they bleed..

She's vindictive and often skeptical

Asking if she's cynical is rhetorical

Delusional.. maybe.. pragmatic.. absolutely

Blithe was erased from her vocabulary

The only time she's ebullient is when she's immersed inside her headphones

Death and black metal help her drown out all the bullshit of society

Kataklysm tends to be her favorite little form of debauchery

Obviously she has a thing for medieval vulgarity

Her muse was fastened out of rotten flesh and parasitic seduction

It inspires her to write explicit lyrical content

It inspires her to draw profane images of false enlightenment

She giggles at the disgusted looks on the faces of the towns folk

Because she likes to tattoo intricate designs against her darling tree

Decrepit images of ludicrous fantasies decrypted from her knife

Withered from the kerosene, she likes to plunder all it's life

One day a group of people intruded her personal atmosphere

Then proceeded to engaged her in pety verbal strife

But when she laughed at their audacity one stood above the rest and said,

"You're tainting our pleasant community, let me give you a plethora of advice..."

Her response,
"Fuck off"

His predictable reaction,
"You're such a narcissistic bitch!"

Her response,
"Kiss-my-ass"

Then she returned to the public defacing of the towns eldest tree

Loathing all the sheeple with her vengeful mockery