Return & Refund PoliciesA Poem by isaa girl has sex with a man that only wanted one thing.The part that kills me is the one where I do it all willingly. Losing this fight should be a screaming, kicking, sickening affair in which every excuse can be made to absolve me of this Catholic. F*****g. Guilt. I have always been the sinner that seeks out ugly pride & I want to be a victim now to thieving hands that can be cut at the wrist & coarse words & keen eyes that leave something retrievable but I am a cheating merchant that has taken a bad deal & what I have lost is no more mine to keep or take back. As horrible as it would be to have been robbed & left with cave-in ribs punch-out hole just the size of a man’s fist-- this feels worse. This surgical incision, this careful carving, this memory of surrender & placing my heart on the dining table. It’s not fair except it is; the way I want it back even knowing you’ve already swallowed it down & I hate the stranger wearing my face so I need my girlhood back & yes it was yours to take but it shouldn’t have been mine to give. © 2025 isaAuthor's Note
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1 Review Added on January 29, 2025 Last Updated on January 29, 2025 Tags: poetry, trauma, sex, things that are consensual, but do not feel like it AuthorisaMilton, ON, CanadaAbouthi! call me isa. she / her. eighteen. i write fantasy short stories + poetry. more..Writing
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