I am not an object because of my beauty
You forced me to kiss you
“Your lips are too pretty not to!”
You took your private part out when I was distracted
“I got pent up and wasn’t thinking clearly.”
Your hand cracked like a whip on my ass
“I thought you liked it rough!?”
Before I could lay on the bed you pounced on me like prey
“I know you don’t like people coming from behind you. But I had to have you.”
You stuck your tongue down my throat even though I have sensory issues that carries into meltdowns
“I’m really passionate about touching you! Your beauty is something unimaginable!”
Never a thought of self restraint
These past lovers taunt my mind
The dates, flowers, and classic teddy bear prove to be nothing more than a token in a game to play
Trinkets that I received were just an exchange for
A prize to put upon your mantle
A sticker on your scoreboard
A chapter in your sex journey
My physical appearance is the least interesting thing about me. My mind is curious and burns for exploration. I often like to read books from different decades and compare them to the others. Sometimes I prefer wired headphones. They’re more gentle than using overhead ones. Around the back of my ears are easily irritated. At the age of seven, I got stung by wasp in my neck. Which is one of the reasons why I’m skittish when physical touch occurs from my collar bone to my chin. I love learning odd facts that no one would put energy towards. In England, there’s this place called “Alnwick Garden”. It’s a poisonous garden that holds every plant know to man that can kill someone. Even by standing too close or the fumes from the plant in the air can make you pass out! I love singing, dancing, and listening to music. Music and dance is a form of communication without any words. Being able to free how you feel without speaking. Something is so powerful in that ability humans are able to portray.
I wish to find safety within my body. Especially, when it feels like it’s owed to somebody else because of their perception of me.
