The Palette Of A Distasteful Manboy: A Poem

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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?

woman s face
Photo by Alexander Krivitskiy on Pexels.com

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