They tell me I'm Pretty.

Hey Beautiful is what they speak to me.

They try to whoo me in someway,

Because they learned it works on other girls with low self-esteem, and a need to find their father's love inside a shriveled up dick.

They paw at me everywhere: 

Dating apps, making a friend live video, even into my own personal life accounts.

I'm suffocated with thirsty men, who remind me of nothing but Vikings.

They pillage, the plunder, and then toss my body aside; most of them took parts of me without asking anyways why should they care about the aftermath?

"You're beautiful. I just had to tell you."

Did you really have to?

Is it my volunteer tutoring kids, or the abuse victims I've helped make me beautiful?...

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