I’m not meant for hookup culture,
But he eyes me like a vulture
My clothes decorate his floor
This isn’t what I want anymore
I lay there like prey
He hurries without delay
He claims his prize
I close my blurring eyes
Jagged talons claw deep into my hips
The facade slips
I can’t do this
Tears caress my cheeks
My future's beginning to look bleak
Bleeding lips hungry for a taste
I just want to be replaced
His sandpaper hands leave grooves in the softest parts of me
This was never an outcome we could foresee
YOU ARE READING
My Head's Above Water
PoetryLosing the one you thought you'd have forever will really put things into perspective. Life and death, love and hate, the old and the new. Lay back and relax, we're getting over a heartbreak one miserable poem after the other.
