She inherited the same pain,
She vanished into the world
To look for love and thought she found it
And came back with knives stuck in her chest.
They hit her invisibly and lured her in.
The more time passed, the more they stuck out
And she could see how deeply they lived within
Her flesh, how many had sought out her body.
They attached themselves to her skin with
Feigned kindness and double-edged attention.
He was the one who kissed her arms and shoulders
For the first time, places untouched by human emotion.
He knew how to captivate her, trick her into co-dependence.
And she thought that her life relied on his.
The mouths of other women smelled like him.
His fingers grabbed them all, greeting her with a vicious smile
And she’d never suspect anything.
He’d kiss her lips, unwashed, the taste of another girl
On his tongue still and he’d be proud, boasting to his
Male friends. Number so and so, then and there, then
Number so and so, then and there, going back to the
Lie of number one.
He’d reek, falling into bed, insatiable, repulsive,
Forcing her to roll over, be awake, be present,
His dirty hands on her hip, entering her sex,
Mixing her wetness with that of others and she’d cry into
Her pillow, thinking of her mother, unable to muster up
The courage to shove him aside and leave, now and for good,
Putting his infidelities into her body, his lack of safety,
He didn’t give a shit, connecting one woman with the other,
As if they all were one and the same, but where’s the fun in that?
Croque-Melpomene 