I told my first boyfriend that I hate men
I compared him with the feeling of dirt.
The girls I've kissed ended it with amen.
In the bathroom as She removed my shirt
I felt like a prophet, receiving God's
Words, damned to spend the rest of my plain life
Unable to keep up with the facade
Of being some man's small, quiet, little wife
I have stroked the most ethereal skin
I have kissed lips that taste of sweet honey
and felt what my savior feels like within.
His efforts to try and win are funny
To think he could ever compare to Her
That he could ever be anything more.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry Portfolio
PoesíaI've got a lot running through my head, I suppose I should write it down. Poems I have written- just decided I may want to share them.
