this body isn't some revolving door
that you can come into
and leave whenever you please
you don't get to have me
when it suits you
or when it's convenient enough for you
you were supposed to just have me
sweat and blood and tears and all
panic attacks and wounds and all
you don't get to have a piece of me
and then just walk away with it
no—you either stay or go
choose me or go
choose this or go
you don't get to jerk me around anymore
you don't get to tug me on a leash
like i'm a pet that you only play with
when you're bored
you don't get to use me
like i'm some thing to get off to
i'm not a flower
not a rose or a tool
i'm a girl.
i'm a women.
i'm a person.
respect me.
YOU ARE READING
thorns and other maladies
Poetryanother collection of poems. *TW: mentions of sexual assault, drug use, self harm and other sensitive topics*
