DRINK
To be put in a glass and sipped
upon, half empty or full is disheartening.
I’m so tasteful to the distasteful.
Mediocre in real life, but his
pleasure at night. In preparation I
mask my body with drugs and alcohol.
I wash away the scent of used; confused,
I accept more men to climb on top
of me. To steal my inner joy.
To shame me afterwards. No shame when
I’m spread like eagle wings. When he cups my breast
and dripped sweat drizzles down my back.
Fluids colliding—me riding along, no love
and no harm. Seconds seems like forever
I can’t escape this reality. Minutes are
my life’s destiny—I’m destitute. One
after another they roll off me. Smelly, wet,
breathless. Another piece of me torn off
given to the unfamiliar. Then they leave
me to wash away the pain—guilt invades me
as water rinses them away. Forever lonely, I lie back and
dream of a sensual peace one day.
NaKayla Michelle Spicer