Under My Skin
I didn't ask for my blood to sing at a sharp tone.
A chemical bond I'd rather be broken from someone not worthy of the bite of a tick...
There's a paralysis in me, found the night I learned to love the living parasite.
There is no intimacy in the attraction I feel, no desire to be his and his alone.
My heart does not beat for his, but my pumping arteries may try to convince you otherwise.
He sins in flesh and I sin in slice.
I sin in snap, and he sins in lying nice.
His sins are flesh, but it's mine that stings.
I snap, and I slice and I scratch at his play thing.
I could try to convince you otherwise, that it's not so bad.
I could put on the smiling face that people want to see... they don't want to move out of their comfort zone and see the face of a girl that's been had.
Red marks and slices on his and my own flesh don't lie...
For you, for them, for all,
Why should I?
YOU ARE READING
Taking back the Moon
Short StoryA description serves no purpose but to lure readers in. So why should you read? Well, I attempt to make sense of rape in the form of prose, flash back, and poetry. It is what it is.
