I think it’s beautiful
T.W: Sexual Context
Strap me down, my bones are bound,
I cannot move, I love
to drown. One comes off,
another falls. He loves
to see me. Free me-
hold me. Turn me good,
scare me straight, see me
flinch and tease me,
scold me.
Brewing, frothing at the mouth,
it keeps quiet and stays
deep down. Asking to be
looked at: up and down,
down on my knees, tell me
no and touch me inside out.
Love me harder than I’m
used to, use my
bones and my beating blood thump
to pound out your power. I am
your little miss, please grip
my jaw and kiss me.
When you leave,
I miss you.
When you come home,
you come down hard. The high road
bores, your teeth tear through
to apple cores. Pieces
you throw on the floor,
I eat them and I never
ask for more.
Lowdown and shameful and
burning pink, my hunger feels
but cannot think. It
clamors, leaps up
in my eyes. It even dares to
ask you why you care to
feed me. Need me –
wrap around, my blood is bound
to your word.
I cannot move, I make no
sound. You wipe my tears,
and watch me drown.