Robbers take what we hold dear, not only materialistic things. You broke the typical robber stereotype.

I don’t want to close my eyes anymore. I’m afraid I might find you - again. Robbers don’t necessarily come in the dark. I can still see my reflection in your eyes, pleading. My whole outlook on people changed. I don’t want to see anymore. You robbed me of my sight.

My skin is a living paradox. It is hot to the touch, because of bottled up anger, yet it is cold. It is cold where your fingers once danced graciously over me, like a dancer gliding over the floor. You never told me you could dance. I now refuse to touch my own skin. It doesn’t feel the same anymore. You took my sense of touch when you left.

We went for strawberry milkshakes when we met, just before... Strawberry milkshakes were my favourite. Notice the past tense? I want to confront you about what you did, but I cannot face you. I tried calling to no avail. The words burned in my throat and I became mute. I ended up not saying anything at all. Strange, my voice and my sense of taste left with you.

I can still smell you beside me - roses and regret. I try to avoid roses now. I bought a bouquet out of spite, in a desperate attempt to get back at you in some crazy way. I destroyed it. Nothing came of this, except the realisation that I cannot bare the smell of roses. My sense of smell was taken away by you.

I still hear your voice echoing in my thoughts. The sweet nothing’s you whispered. You were right when you said that nobody will know about this. You were wrong when you said that it wouldn’t hurt, because I’m still in pain. I cannot even listen to certain voices anymore. The more your voice echoes in my mind, the more my hearing fades away. You stole my hearing.

Robbers can be charged with breaking and entering. Why can’t you? Isn’t a lack of consent exactly the same? A simple guy like me, could never trust a woman ever again. You are a robber, and you robbed me of my senses.

The ****** broke, I bleed again you tell me to hold on, you say you can feel everything, but so do I. I feel, I  feel the abraisons, the scars but who the **** cares when my feelings are drowned out by the lingering smell of cigarettes on your breath. Do you remember when you told me about your son, who you never see, but ***** lies about a future family bore from me. My ****** ripped  and streched, bleeding and bruised.  You assume we'll have children, yet never ask me what my favorite names are. I love David, Matthew, Katherine & Audrey. But why would you care, if you don't stop to care about the words "NO", some of the first words we learn as a tot. When you cry and complain about missing your sons milestones but don't do **** to be a father to him and fight for him, that speaks measures. Thus next time, I will buy a bigger ****** and perhaps, I won't have to think about whether or not you know all these things?

a single column around
my favourite part,
the inside of your wrists
I brush the fibers against porcelain
wanting to leave a mark
let me create a map of red lines
and bruises on your skin
this way I'll know where to
lightly caress or
run my tongue along or
dig my fingers into

breath you into me
and sync our breaths
slow and calm
I run the bight along your arms
tug it across your chest
it is meticulous as the rope runs tandem
and I go slow
savouring each ******* fold
over, under, through, tighter, harder

your smile commands me
so I ask you to beg
tell me you want it
I want to hear it
tell me you want me
of course I'll give in
we both know you're in charge

I maintain tension with the rope
it's a language I've become fluent in
I maintain tension through eye contact
though I pray you won't see through me
I maintain control
of myself and keep to the task at hand
wrapping you like a gift, like my gift

subspace is a land I've never been to
but I know the face you make
when you get there
your eyes flit and I can sense your arousal
our breathing quickens
as you contract against my lips
you are unbound and released
as I pull the rope tighter

I'll bind you free

It took months for me to merely acknowledge the downwards spiral
To identify the source of my destruction
Was the night you took my sadness and tears
as some kind of seduction

And now, with hindsight being 20/20
I see the unhealthy, victim that you made me

I binged on addictions in order to halt thoughts from rising to reality
Numbed my mind, emotions, and morals
Convinced myself that my actions were out of strength,
self knowledge and discovery….

But they were not

Unhealthy habits spiralled into self blame
Attempts to cope with a loss of self worth I could not explain

Masking pain with parties and loneliness with lovers
Spending nights weeping into someone else’s covers

Weeks of weeping, wailing and wallowing
Unable to utter why
It was that hazey nightmare I was swallowing
And all I could do, was cry

I remember your gaze
Filled with trust and a harmful hint of lust
I remember your hands gripped on my hips
But I don’t remember any sort of kiss
on my tear soaked lips

Too detached to put up any sort of fight
I lived a nightmare that i will never forget
Eyes stalking and my conscious mind taking flight
Then My body bent on the couch, dripped in sweat

I awoke, uncomfortable on that cheap little couch
And arose to join you sound asleep in your bed
But as I did so, you awoke to reach out
Commanding me to “Stay down there” as you shoved my head

I left that moment
Like a rejected creature not even worth your company
You felt shame and disgrace at my presence
And I became empty in my essence

Pain encompassed my being and made me mute
Until after months I  realized my self-destructive tendencies
Had a root

I know they say that time heals all wounds
but they fail to mention how or when your life will resume
It is a promise for an ending that you so badly want to believe
For a life beyond the past for which you grieve

I realize now that time isn’t some gracious healer; patient and kind
It doesn’t give a **** about the tears shed, innocence lost or souls left behind
Time keeps passing, that is all we can say fo sure
And in that simple truth, I found my cure

After months of wasting away in my own mind
I spoke my truth to a friend and was released from denial’s bind
For so long I fought my reality for the fear that it made me weak
But acceptance of my truth brought nothing but relief

You'd prefer each part of me open
With only one exception, my mouth
Unless moaning and gasping from your touch
Or intending to gratify and satisfy you
But I do not owe you my body just because
You'd like to have your hands all over it
Well you should go and find a person who
Sees life in a similar way that your eyes do

You'd like me a lot better without closed legs
I'd like you a lot better without a closed mind.

One day I’ll be a daughter, a woman and a mother.
I will raise men who don't know how to ****.

To my father
To my lover
To my son
I’ll teach
You don’t make brothels out of bodies.

The tide and her wave of emotion.
The hands that once held me now goes for
the jugular, to cut.
The swift, rough swipe of the
razor causes an outpour of unstoppable feelings,
fleeting forth from my face,
It lands upon an infant that lay
crying in my right hand,
screaming, it yearns for the breast of
knowledge and safety,
The craving for intimacy and affection,

The Insuppressible,

Indistinguishable,

Need for Want,
And Want for Need, all the same.

A take on violence

The exiling waves of life
Battered a Syrian child
Swept ashore. We scrolled.
We shrugged this violence.

Eyes glued to a simulacrum of love
Expecting the controlled dominance
Of a filthy rich fictional character
We said: “It’s vanilla.”

Violence as an idea is sweetened
You gulp down the pill
But violence as a means is condemned
You still gulp down the pill.

March 6, 2018
Lyon 1 University