I am really bad at naming things

I think this body foreign soil.
I think my pelvis bone a Swiss Army Knife I never quite learned to swipe open.
I think this mouth a lightening storm without the thunder, a bark without bite, a noose with nothing to kick out from underneath my feet.
I think the smell of you between my legs after scrubbing for days on end a nightmare I wake up in a cold sweat from and lullaby myself back to meet.
I think I'm tired of you coming here and feigning pilgrimage for annexation.
Nothing about my body belongs to you but you took it anyway.

Author's Note

Honestly this was more therapy than anything else. Like usual.

Reviews

[Jibey]

Striking and disturbing in a fascinating way; moving because the words tell of pain and anguish and of a lively creative mind.

The images are so effective - the Swiss Army Knife, the smell of you between my legs, pilgrimage for annexation. The writing speaks of abuse and the need for special love. It certainly affected me.