Beads encircle my wrist
I twist, and twist, and twist them
And the fire roars behind me
A mind consumed by mayhem
Hands encircle my waist
And eyes trail behind
Squeezing my soul until the desire pours out
And I am left blind
I kick my hind legs
Hungers seeping from his bones
And soaking my skin
Running through my hair like a comb
And it’s sewn into my DNA
To be looked at and wanted
But never to want for myself
To lie back and let my throat be slit
I am in the middle,
Of what I want and what’s right
So, I let my skin get drenched
And I sit under the drainpipe
The pride of Man trickles down
And leaks right into my soul
They can stare and sexualize
And still stay on government payroll
And I am Echo,
Punished for wanting
And you were Narcissus,
A reminder that I was built for watching
Your desire snaps and screeches
And mine hides and bleeds
The difference between the simplest things
And the space between these heartbeats
And I am drained of wanting
Leached of all hunger
I’ve gotten hasty hands and wandering eyes
Since I was much younger
They echo those words
“Product of our culture”
In every cruel tale
Of a violent lover
I am no hunter
I find myself more like the deer
Teeth sunken into soft brown fur
Eyes still wide with fear
And with every hand around my waist
Every bead around my wrist
I turn another wandering eye black
And I make myself noticed
Mar 11
Mar 11, 2026 at 9:47 AM UTC
Beads encircle my wrist
I twist, and twist, and twist them
And the fire roars behind me
A mind consumed by mayhem
Hands encircle my waist
And eyes trail behind
Squeezing my soul until the desire pours out
And I am left blind
I kick my hind legs
Hungers seeping from his bones
And soaking my skin
Running through my hair like a comb
And it’s sewn into my DNA
To be looked at and wanted
But never to want for myself
To lie back and let my throat be slit
I am in the middle,
Of what I want and what’s right
So, I let my skin get drenched
And I sit under the drainpipe
The pride of Man trickles down
And leaks right into my soul
They can stare and sexualize
And still stay on government payroll
And I am Echo,
Punished for wanting
And you were Narcissus,
A reminder that I was built for watching
Your desire snaps and screeches
And mine hides and bleeds
The difference between the simplest things
And the space between these heartbeats
And I am drained of wanting
Leached of all hunger
I’ve gotten hasty hands and wandering eyes
Since I was much younger
They echo those words
“Product of our culture”
In every cruel tale
Of a violent lover
I am no hunter
I find myself more like the deer
Teeth sunken into soft brown fur
Eyes still wide with fear
And with every hand around my waist
Every bead around my wrist
I turn another wandering eye black
And I make myself noticed
A poem based off of my favorite Greek myth, Echo
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