CiCi's Song (and it has absolutely nothing to do with pizza)

This is a spoken word poem I wrote a few months back. It's very broken and inconsistent, but it's raw; I don't even want it to sound smooth. I apologize for the dash of profanity at the end. It needed to be there. Also before you guys get all judgmental on me, this is not a true story. This is not based on a specific true story. This is a compilation of my observations at college.

CiCi's Song

A beautiful girl,
Born to the world, 1994.
Formed by a mother and a careless father,
So adorned with love you'd think nothing could stop her.
Until.
Until the world hit her father.
He picked up the bottle: whiskey. No DD.
Smashed his foot to the throttle, DUI model,
Now there's no milk in the bottle for poor CiCi.
A single mother with a three-year-old child.
I don't know how they constantly do it.
Pushing and fighting through the struggles of this life until they're finally through it.
Food, clothes, roof, school, shoelaces.
Are superheros real? She's showing some pretty strong cases.
Running two races that no one should run,
And as her daughter grows up she can't turn around to see what she's become.
For as much as her mother did, she couldn't be a father.
Early teen years, she was there.
CiCi didn't bother.

Now this piece is not about single mothers.
This piece is not about dead fathers.
This is about the evils of mankind,
The perversion in my own mind,
The sexual sin that only gets stronger with time because we learn new ways to manipulate the female mind.

Because I heard the other day, and I even said in jest.
"Go for the ones with Daddy problems; they're the easiest.
The desperate and depressed, because they'll respect your 'yes'.
The self-conscious and insecure--just tell them they're your best."

So I'm going after CiCi.
She's a freshman this year.
I'll wipe her tears and calm her fears brought on by the years of pain.
Little does she know that I'll re-instill each of these fears again.
Mistreated in high school like some low-class whore.
She comes to a Christian college where she'll feel more secure.
Looking for a man, anything but her dad,
But she runs too fast and trips hard over my Christian facade.

You see, I played her like a fiddle.
Kept my true intentions a riddle,
and when she asked me where I stood, I told her somewhere in the middle.
Not too forward as to scare her away,
But not too boring either, as if I'm about to decay.

Her walls need broken down,
Chronic trust issues.
Holding her hand: my hammer.
My chisel: handing her tissues.
My wrecking ball is the text after a night together that sweetly reads, "I miss you."
Brick by brick I break it down, and build it twice as high.
She can't see her new wall yet, though.
Shhh.
That's her big surprise.

"You're beautiful."
"You're special to me."
"I don't even know--there's something special about you."
"No."
"Yes."
"I promise."
"Don't you?"

I slide my hand under her shirt.
"I'm not like most guys," I say.
Sure.
How is she to know?
If only my nose would grow--if only I was Pinocchio!
Now she can't say no.
I have her too deep.
She believed me when I told her she'd be coming over to sleep.
Thought she'd be counting sheep.
But now she's in Ground Memorial breaking the promises she couldn't keep.

Do you hear that sound?
That's me tearing apart an angel's wings.
Why? Because it gets me high.
Because I like risking the lives of others if it means that I can fly.
Only the strong survive!
...and, well. She just didn't play her cards right.
I guess this just wasn't her night.

The "I miss you" texts stop coming, and her nights wouldn't end.
As she's staring blankly at her phone, I'm recounting to my friends.
Her phone dies.
I get a high-five.
A tear forms.
My cheer scorns.
I threw her to her new wall with nothing but an unwanted notch in her belt and a muffled cry for help.

Heartbreak ensues. I left her with a huge bruise.
Not the physical kind. No, the kind that you can never lose.
I don't turn around and I don't look back.
I don't pick it up where I dropped it.
I told you we were evil, shit.
Mission accomplished.
It's like no one could've stopped it.