*this is a repost.




somehow i found myself
consorting with a
curled medusa

found myself
lying in bed
with no morals
or pride

or strength


just a lonely mermaid
sunbathing on two
pale kneecaps,
as something finds
it's way into
my mouth-


(and it's almost as though
i am giving head
to a disiple of christ
or maybe a gladiator
without a golden shield.)



loneliness is supposed
to fade.
emptiness is supposed
to be replaced.


instead,

his dick is covered
in my spit

and my hair is
sweeping his legs
like a drowned ship
but my mouth has
ceased to feel anything

i've never felt more
dirty than i do now,


but the reciever of
this "pleasure"
cannot know this.


his body bobs up
and down,
like a struggling stone
dancing to a
nonexistent beat


and i'm trying to
pretend that i

enjoy this feeling
that there's no
place i'd rather be
than on top of him,


feeling his hardness
against my lips
like a warm pipe

while my hand is

wrapped around his
cock, a thick cigarette.



i hate this taste
yet they tell me
i am supposed to love it.
i feel cheap yet
i am supposed to
feel fulfilled.




he doesn't love me


and he will never
love me

but at this moment,
his love is washing
into my mouth,
a sticky river of iron


and i choke it out
like a purging girl
rejecting food

(my body refuses
to digest this sickening
taste,


this miserably odor,
this symbol of empty doors
and cold oceans).


he looks cheerful now
but i feel so used
as i notice how
he kisses everywhere


except my lips

and he tells me
that i have done

a good job.
i'd exchange that
souless praise
just to get my dignity back



but it's lost down the
cracks of his wooden
bedroom floor,
the semen and saliva
and beauty.



i am jezebel
i am eve
i am everyone
but myself



and i'll never get
those 25 minutes back

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