i dunnoA Poem by Ms. StarrIf I was worth something, it wouldn’t be anything worthy of anyone’s time. If I caught someone’s eye, I wouldn’t be as I am now, Atleast, I’d be easier to love. I could be a striped, black and white babydoll dress with frayed edges and empty button holes. I could slip over the smooth terrace of the girl who paid $7.35 at a thrift store on the first day of spring. She’d guide me close along her spine and shift her hips into my curves. She is small and strong and I am thin and shaky but she plants a kiss on my neckline and says she likes my scent, a dwelling odor of nostalgia. When she steps into the light, her nimble silhouette glows through my shifting skin, but in her shadow we are one so I think maybe, maybe if I fit tightly enough she’ll let me feel what it’s like to be someone beautiful. Not something. Not a pleasing mold of flesh for which they’d gladly exchange a slip of printed paper for the warmth that I keep between the curve of my throat and my tongue. I think my mouth can hold something a little more meaningful than your insistent moaning How bout you shut up and try to choke down something as hard to swallow as my passion I mean I appreciate the enthusiasm I’m just trying to feel like something worth wearing. Not a stained and mothy cloth that’s been ripped off too many times to count the number of stitches in my side that are breaking off moments of protest with sweet talk, no, I don’t want this sugar coated tongue down my throat okay. come ‘ere, breath a little steam into my lungs you know that if you get my high enough I’ll let you rip any seam you want No don’t worry bout me just pull a little harder and I’ll fall away, completely. it’s amazing what a little persuasion can do for you. Sorry if I’m shaky your pressure is putting a lot of strain on the foundation I’ve worked so hard to build and i’m getting slippery from the heat waves between my thighs and I feel sick. Do I make you sick? Am I clinging too tight, a little too close? Does my proximity make your skin crawl? Am I digging into your flesh, I’m sorry, I’m just searching for a little depth, I’m trying to squeeze some validation out of you. My hands are shaking from all this unmet energy, I want some eye contact I want heat to flow from my atmosphere to yours, let’s exchange a little warmth in our greeting this time. I'm coming up from my knees to look you in the eye and maybe find that peace of your mind that i've been trying to fit in with the puzzle of my thoughts but I just don't think you have the right input in our conversations. or maybe i'm just thinking more than i'm talking repressing more than expressing so who could blame you for wanting to fill the silence in my mouth with some sort of substance. © 2012 Ms. Starr |
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Added on July 30, 2012 Last Updated on August 10, 2012 Tags: prose, spoken word, poetry, sex, expression AuthorMs. StarrMAAboutI enjoy writing. I don't do it enough. I'm unmotivated, uninspired, and have learned that unless you are deemed important or special enough for modern society, your words will generally go unheard. I'.. more..Writing
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