the first boy that kissed me
held my shoulders down
like the handlebars of
the first bicycle
he ever rode
i was five
he had the smell of
starvation on his lips
which he picked up from
his father feasting on his mother at 4 a.m.
he was the first boy
to teach me my body was
for giving to those that wanted
that i should feel anything
less than whole
and my god
did i feel as empty
as his mother at 4:25 a.m.
-the hurting
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