S**t

“What’s wrong with sex?”

She shouts it to the wall

She bangs her fist against the table

In empty wait for an answer

 

Shouts of ‘s**t!’

Still fresh in her ear

Thrumming over

And over

 

What’s strange is that

It’s not an accusation she thought

Would hurt her

 

But as she rolls it over

Tacks it to her ceiling

Tastes it

 

She begins to wonder

If there is something wrong

With her

 

No

Sex is natural

 

Isn’t it?

 

And it’s something

Everyone wants

 

Right?

 

She smashes her head

Into her mattress

Until she sees stars

 

Why does ‘s**t’

Sting this much?