Dreams of a worldly woman

With layers of mascara masquerading her flaws

Stretched out fingers with artificial toppings

Loosely swinging reflections of seductive passion

Clutching ostentatious purses

Passionate about her lingerie

Addicted to how helpless she makes men feel

So addicted, it matters to her more than the feel of love

Standing sexy before mirrors

Momentarily tired of her vanities for the first time

She remembers for a minute the love she ruined

Men who had genuinely fallen for her

And the special one she loved too, but messed up

But glamour awaits outdoor

Where her back story is unknown

She is the reason Omata boys would take foul shots at American accent

Their efforts is constantly her comic relief

They would sign blank cheques to her pecks

And sell their souls for her kisses

But such victories don't feed her ego

Her pride is based on the hearts she breaks

The heart of men who are heart breakers

She loves to ruin men other women would love to ruin them

Those were her trophies

The lady killers and strong men

Men whose names are tagged to tales of valour

I dream of a worldly woman

A dream I've seen and dread for life

I've Eaten sweetened food cooked by foreigners

Garnished for the gram

Food that only taste good in pictures

I've admired tanned vultures dressed In wigs

Swinging their improper silicon hips

They only turn me on on Snapchat

I never knew I would ever make love to a demon

With Promises of heaven

The type that would spawn the devil if I didn't use a condom

@the_vyrus

Unidentified Individual