If you counted the ways

You are obsessed with me

You’d run out of numbers

But if I were to count

I’d reach 0

You’re a creep

Stop asking for photos

Of my unclothed body

You’re a creep

Stop asking for my clothes

Stop saying you want to

Impregnate me

You’re such a creep

You’ll be singing

“I’m not a groomer just a loser”

In a few years