Our feet were dirty with sand

as we danced 

hand in hand; we laughed 

like two kittens

bitten by euphoria,

an original story

of crush-smitten children. 

I used to crawl on my knees

in a seductive tease

like Patrick Swayze; 

we giggled at our budding nipples, 

laced in seaweed, 

baby mermaids tickled with glee

at the teeth that we freed

from our lips that used to clench shut. 

You would bounce over my chest

and call me a slut, our laughter

bellowed from our guts

at the thought of innocent me, 

prude princess of purity

prying my legs to promiscuity. 

I counted the freckles

on your belly

and you counted the colors

in my eyes

until our faces got so close, 

that my open mouth traced

your cheek, a sleek satiation

of skin that turned my legs to jelly. 

 

 

Sing me to sleep, 

you used to say

and beg me to stay

when we grew too old to play. 

Have you ever been held? 

Why no, what for?

I’m used to sleeping on the floor. 

Come here, I want to hear your voice

as I drift into my dreams.

Why did I let your creamy touch

lure me to your clutches,

why did you make this longing

to be held become my crutch? 

Why did you smell so sweet

innocently rubbing

your feet onto mine, 

why did time go by so fast?

Why couldn’t the innocence

last a little longer? 

If only I were stronger. 

 

 

You used to marvel at me,

as if I were a rare creature of myth,

I’d never been with a boy,

I’d never had my first kiss. 

I could feel your smile in my hair,

I was aware of your constant stare,

an alien sensation of admiration

rather than a glare. 

When I told you I danced, 

it only enhanced your fascination, 

turning down the lights

and watching my transition,

my transformation to woman

when eyes were averted.

My body became smoke

gently contorted

swaying towards the ceiling, 

my hips and thighs melted 

like caramel in a rippling swivel,

my femininity reeling

to the bass and treble. 

How could I have known

that I was in trouble? 

Something awakened,

you trembled and I lost

that feeling of importance

I used to find in the brown

of your eyes. Your new smile

was tainted with my demise,

because sexy is never enough,

and neither was I. 

 

 

A mythical creature

turned into a succubus for attention. 

Strategically you manipulated 

the carefree transition I emulated, 

but it translated to jealousy, 

a tug-of-war pretending that 

you intended to love me, 

keeping me close enough

to drag at your feet, enticing me 

with what my girlish insecurity

deserved. Crazy child of selfish 

joy, toying with competing egos,

I learned to feign coyness to 

snare your spotlight, hoping your humility

would bring you home at night.

But I underestimated my plight; 

I loved you feverishly, quivering

for a sliver of your admiration; 

I learned to tolerate your apathy,

my contrition for my insanity 

becoming the leash to my 

disintegrating humanity,

A leash I never learned to detach

even when you abandoned me. 

 

 

So I wander the world,

a stray of frayed memories,

afraid of remembering you

and what love used to mean to me,

how no one has ever loved me

like I thought that you loved me. 

So I wander

a sad beast cursed with the pennance

to roam the edges of the Earth, 

wishing to dissipate like sea foam,

like the dandelions that float

to God with the wishes of children’s dreams. 

I want to scream out to HIM,

make me believe!

Make me believe!

Please!

 

 

Curse you! to give me false hope

that integrity in love exists, 

that as soon as I fuck them, 

I’m not just a fulfilled wish, 

a satisfied craving, immediately forgotten. 

Tainted human that I am,

wanting to be important again,

wanting those eyes on my hair,

wanting soft hands on my skin. 

But wanting only begins

with giving what THEY want,

and they always win. 

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