yamilet-nguyen - Hello Poetry

I'm not the girl that you want, I’m the girl that you lust— the one you think you might love because my heart feels warmer than the sun. My body: a place of passion and fun. It’s what you think, right? Until it’s time to commit. Yes, you want it to work— but at what expense, when my heart ends up poor? Haunted by your lustful eyes that admire other women, I go from carefree and wild to becoming more insecure than a child. Locking myself in a cage, leaving you with nothing but a hairpin to pick through, to try to win me again. I’m not the girl they want. I’m the girl they lust. The one who’s fun for one night— but after months, you start to see why I hide. All the rigid lines of every lie I’ve been told; your voice now muffled by the sound of letting you go. Every tear lands on the thinnest strands of my hair, leaving whispers of pain before they reach the end of my pillow. The moon has witnessed every battle I’ve died in. She revived me when my blood trickled closer to my eyelids. Ask her how she kept my limp body from composing, how every wound is healed— but never enough to cope with disaster. As if my fate is swimming in lustful waters that always drown me. So say it again— how you love me, how you’ll change. But my heart doesn’t work like normal; I’ve been part of these games. My mind only knows how to protect my heart, so how would I know the difference between what’s real and what’s not? Oh, I’m leaving, I’m running— it’s all that I do. I’ll be sorry for leaving a man just like you. Isn’t that right? Isn’t that true? —or will you be sorry for turning my bright love to blue?

0

Nov 9, 2025

Nov 9, 2025 at 12:46 AM UTC

yamilet-nguyen

Lust for life

I'm not the girl that you want, I’m the girl that you lust— the one you think you might love because my heart feels warmer than the sun. My body: a place of passion and fun. It’s what you think, right? Until it’s time to commit. Yes, you want it to work— but at what expense, when my heart ends up poor? Haunted by your lustful eyes that admire other women, I go from carefree and wild to becoming more insecure than a child. Locking myself in a cage, leaving you with nothing but a hairpin to pick through, to try to win me again. I’m not the girl they want. I’m the girl they lust. The one who’s fun for one night— but after months, you start to see why I hide. All the rigid lines of every lie I’ve been told; your voice now muffled by the sound of letting you go. Every tear lands on the thinnest strands of my hair, leaving whispers of pain before they reach the end of my pillow. The moon has witnessed every battle I’ve died in. She revived me when my blood trickled closer to my eyelids. Ask her how she kept my limp body from composing, how every wound is healed— but never enough to cope with disaster. As if my fate is swimming in lustful waters that always drown me. So say it again— how you love me, how you’ll change. But my heart doesn’t work like normal; I’ve been part of these games. My mind only knows how to protect my heart, so how would I know the difference between what’s real and what’s not? Oh, I’m leaving, I’m running— it’s all that I do. I’ll be sorry for leaving a man just like you. Isn’t that right? Isn’t that true? —or will you be sorry for turning my bright love to blue?

59

***** big, small, tall, short. curvy, flat, scrawny, heavy. getting the attention because they show more skin than the average woman. they give them cute names like ***** "cumbucket" and ***** The only respect given to them is cat calling and t-bagging, as if they weren't human enough or even woman enough to be given the privilege to be taken on a date or better yet having a committed relationship with the boy next door because he is too embarrassed to be seen with the **** but would **** in the sheets because he knew no one would see, that inside those sheets he made lustful sweet love to the **** from the stop. Don't be nice they say, she just wants to lay in bed all day, to eat your flesh and give you head, to make you love her and **** your ego. because no one wants a **** But she was once used and abused, maybe that **** never truly understood how to be loved and cared about because every person who has touched her given her reasons to despise every single bit of hope they would put in her head. Wanting the attention she was never given because hearing "you are beautiful" is like floating mid air feeling the goosebumps running down to her spine, making her wish she heard that a thousand more times. (3:20am)

0

Mar 26, 2016

Mar 26, 2016 at 12:46 AM UTC

yamilet-nguyen

*****

***** big, small, tall, short. curvy, flat, scrawny, heavy. getting the attention because they show more skin than the average woman. they give them cute names like ***** "cumbucket" and ***** The only respect given to them is cat calling and t-bagging, as if they weren't human enough or even woman enough to be given the privilege to be taken on a date or better yet having a committed relationship with the boy next door because he is too embarrassed to be seen with the **** but would **** in the sheets because he knew no one would see, that inside those sheets he made lustful sweet love to the **** from the stop. Don't be nice they say, she just wants to lay in bed all day, to eat your flesh and give you head, to make you love her and **** your ego. because no one wants a **** But she was once used and abused, maybe that **** never truly understood how to be loved and cared about because every person who has touched her given her reasons to despise every single bit of hope they would put in her head. Wanting the attention she was never given because hearing "you are beautiful" is like floating mid air feeling the goosebumps running down to her spine, making her wish she heard that a thousand more times. (3:20am)

5

I see you, I see the way you're hurt and the way you ache. I see the way you try to conceive love by just ******* your way into every ***** you see lurking around, you're ****** into this deep cynical lust that you try to come out of, but to where? to more broken hearts and deceitful lies, to the way you gave in to the perfect touch you allowed to love you. just to realize, perfection doesn't exist, and that this is just another myth of what they call love. they call you a cynic, but they do not see that to you this nonsense is just a disease of vulnerability.

0

Mar 23, 2016

Mar 23, 2016 at 6:00 PM UTC

yamilet-nguyen

Cynical bliss

I see you, I see the way you're hurt and the way you ache. I see the way you try to conceive love by just ******* your way into every ***** you see lurking around, you're ****** into this deep cynical lust that you try to come out of, but to where? to more broken hearts and deceitful lies, to the way you gave in to the perfect touch you allowed to love you. just to realize, perfection doesn't exist, and that this is just another myth of what they call love. they call you a cynic, but they do not see that to you this nonsense is just a disease of vulnerability.

5