You: " If you liked it, you can write a poem about it. I genuinely enjoy being inside of you. What did you think about when we slept together? I thought it was hot."
The PTSD is you: the dead reminiscence
And, menacing man, I know it's truly you
Because your bright shadow shimmers in my cycle-of-abusers' eyes
Your gingerly countenance skates their hush-hush lips
Your bittersweet charm skips in their sweet-and-sour swagger
Being what I never wanted you to be: permanence
They recognize the grinning destruction in me to be you: their sinful kinsman
Flashback flings: unwillingly reliving your reviling, which was transgressed against higher instruction
Your seduction really as induction to cast-down my imaginations
Coercive woe bringing our self-exalting activities into carnal captivity
Once edified, your darkness shot a headstrong stronghold, conceiving a void of a contrite heart
The color red and then The Color Purple: "He just climb on top of me and do his business".
I came to mourn you, not moan you
You impressed an empty chasm where an orgasm should have been
You were my original sin, not my first self-granting arrogant discretion
Only you know your moves but you never felt good
Tempestuous temptation, you were nothing but unfruitful pain inside of me
A reprobate mind
Electrocuted by your evil eyes
You're better with your clothes on
Unlike your house, I don't leave God's house disappointed and disempowered
YOU ARE READING
Maturing in Love by Rhizome Olivia Quondam
ChickLitMaturing in Love is an anthology guide of adulthood with poems, stories, essays, and blog posts about mature themes, learning self-love, adult-relationships, social issues, and life lessons from growing older. *The blog posts are topic introductions...
