Safe

She was in her dollhouse playing with toys. He played Grand Theft Auto down with his boys. She wanted her childhood, he wanted a biteful. She wanted her girlhood, he was being playful. A trick for a treat, a lick for a taste. Didn't mean to be bothered, didn't mean to be played. There were no tears, there were no screams, Just a broken kid and a sly puppeteer. If I had ran, would I have been safe? Is it too late to say that I wasn't his to take? Is it my fault, 'cause I didn't stop? And if he was a teen does it make it less wrong?