MadGirlStraightIntoAllOfYourFaces | A Poem

There are cruel subtle sentences outside of my body

Telling me that I do not exist.

They take my body for granted, my smile hiding away the inside.

I’d put it all out in the open if they’d let me, if I could

And I can indeed, burst, and scream it out into the world

Of the blind deaf and dumb, put the fire away as it burns harder.

There are sentences of my ancestors in women’s bodies,

From one to another, split, in circles, in agony and worship,

We crave to bond, to hold onto each other without letting

The inside men break us, tell us lies, their stench and filth,

Crude silver, copper coins, dirt into the dust with you all,

I hear that I need to make my peace with them,

As parts of my father are within me too, created me too,

These tiny little particles, the careless gesture, a ghost,

An irresponsibility, thoughtless, animalistic, getting rid of,

That’s him, hunting for what makes him feel good for a heartbeat instant,

A body language that makes her gag, makes her want to forget,

That she shoves into the depths of her body,

The garbage mouth in the back of her head.

And he pretends to be proud, then insults me, then licks his lips,

His friends too. Men of neglect, men of abandonment derail me

In their absence, scar me with their presence, I kept my eyes open,

Lights out, pillow on the face, eye to eye, putting my cards on the table,

They shoved a silver tongue into my throat and I forged it into a sword.

“L’Homme aux poupées” by Jean Veber (1864-1928)

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