i n d u l g e n c e | a poem

her fingers pointed at me

up and down

his eyes were on the ground

I looked into hers

insults coming out of her mouth

he pretended to be a little boy

who didn’t know better

and I stood by my mistakes

the truth

and faced her undivided rage


I undressed

and she looked at me

from behind






what am I doing?


teachers cross lines

that I don’t dare have


he acts this way

because he is encouraged to do so

applauded rewarded expected


he wants to collect evidence

of her



take advantage

whenever he possibly can

and he wouldn’t say a word

in her favour


she attached everything inside of her

to garbage outside of her and burned away

under the heaving weight


she walked home

her father’s shadows

in her hair


dirt on her knees

sore lips

so long

she stared at herself in the windows of a bus

and asked herself

who the fuck are you?


she held the wheel

panic-stricken body


past tree after tree after tree

she had enough of her face

he had put too much of himself into her

she didn’t know anymore

what was hers and his

and he stayed for too long

holding on to her insides


men stayed up to attack her

women stayed up for comfort


I will write you out of my mind


curtain call daughterobligations

stay away embarrassment

he thinks that I can’t understand a thing

he doesn’t know that I can feel him

he puts me down

their open mouths

so small



“Liebesakt, Studie” by Egon Schiele (1890-1918)

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