There are men in my life who think I am normal. They see the tattoos, the piercings, and the “rocker chick” haircut, and they call me alternative . . . They say that I’m scene. Most of these people are men–and they tell me how fucking sexy I am. It gets their dick nice and hard thinking about fucking such a tough girl like me. Well lemme tell you something, baby. I’m no benign bitch. I have some special lipstick on my dresser right now . . . would you like a kiss? I’ve got a friend who’s a real sick fuck, and she makes make-up . . . Wouldn’t you know it, I’ve got some black mamba spiders in my basement and I trapped them in a cage. I like to watch them climb the walls and try to escape. Makes me giddy with pleasure at the control I have over everyone I know . . . I can be what I want to be, do what I want to do. If it was up to me, the entirety of the human race would become my playthings. I’ve got venom laced inside my kiss. Lean in close, ‘cus you’re gonna taste this . . . I’ve built up a tolerance because of my twistedness, been smearing this shit on since before I can remember it. But when your lips touch mine, they’ll get a little flavor on ’em. I’m gonna show my affection while I watch you fucking die.
Bianca
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