Your Fetish

I am a poet! I am. I am. I am a poet, I reaffirmed, ashamed.

You followed me home from the bar
when I was crying
like the chill that lingers
after getting caught in the rain,
the spooky feeling
after a Halloween prank

my eyes disconnect from my brain
and go dead when you’re too rough with me
it’s like pulling a string
and you think it looks
so pretty

and you keep asking
what happened
what happened
what made you like this
because it gives you such a hard on
to think that I’m hurt
and only you can fix it

I am not your sick,
broken doll
you get to bandage
and throw medication
down the throat of
while you forget your
own wounds festering
you don’t get to
see yourself
as my savior

you pulled my strings
on purpose,
you knew where they were
you’ve known so many girls
like this, you say its ok
tell me everything
I’m here

the…

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