Do you remember me?
Do you remember the way you pulled at my hair
The way you bit on my shoulder
Legs
Thighs
Neck
The way you hit my cheek
And left marks of yourself all over me
The way you flung money on my face
The way you kept ******* me
Even though I was asking, begging
PLEADING
For you to stop
The way you screamed,
"Work harder you *****!
I didn’t waste money for you to stop"
And the bruises you left
When I passed out?
I
Am the girl
From the Red Room of The ***** House.
I
Am the ****
Who is ***** everyday
But society says,
"NO. It's all for the easy money"
I
Am the gold-digger
Crying for people to stop.
I
Am the story
Of eighty million **** toys
Behind the Curtains less Doors of Pleasure for Men.
No.
We aren’t **** stars.
We don't become famous for filming obscene videos.
We are just some toys
That men borrow
Like a rental car.
We are the colors
The society talks about in hushed voices
In the corner of a deserted street.
We are the discarded clothes
You never wore
Because they weren’t good enough.
We are the succubuses
Of every man's dream.
We are Pleasure
And
Lust
And
Money
And
Sin.
But,
We die a bit everyday.
We have felt, seen and heard pain
MORE than any one of you here.
We are WOMEN.
But no one holds a candle lit march for us
When one of us is *****.
Because
"It's all for the easy money"
Isn’t it?
We are the Strippers, the Prostitutes, the *****
We
Are the nightmares you never wish to have
We
ARE THE UNSHED TEARS OF A FORGOTTEN PAST.
do you remember me now?

Every Man Has a Dream
by Michael R. Burch

for Beth

Every man has a dream that he cannot quite touch...
a dream of contentment, of soft, starlit rain,
of a breeze in the evening that, rising again,
reminds him of something that cannot have been,
and he calls this dream love.

And each man has a dream that he fears to let live,
for he knows: to succumb is to throw away all.
So he curses, denies it and locks it within
the cells of his heart and he calls it a sin,
this madness, this love.

But each man in his living falls prey to his dreams,
and he struggles, but so he ensures that he falls,
and he finds in the end that he cannot deny
the hope that he feels or the tears that he cries
in the darkness of night for this light he calls love.

Keywords/Tags: Man, Dream, Love, Vision, Fantasy, Aspiration, Hope, Sin, Madness, Cell, Prison, Real, Reality, Touch, Tangible, Contentment, Comfort, Consolation, Prey, Trapped, Snared, Prisoner, Captive, Hope, Fears, Tears, Elusive, Elusiveness

He finds himself in the back of his mind again looking at what could've been. The sins of his past and the demons of isolation scratching their mark on his back. He knows he will never truly leave his past, but instead of fighting back or ignoring the whispers in his ear, he accepts them. For He of all people knows that a sword of negative word loses it's edge when the target allows the blade to hit its mark. He curses not his past, but the Fates who have forged the path ahead of him. "**** YOU" he wants to shout at the ones who control the river of time but he knows that it is pointless and continues down his path of sorrow alone with nothing but his thoughts and the light of the moon to keep him company.

There is a snake there, waiting
venomously for an apple that makes its fangs fall out.
The first of sentient apes turn on immortal creators,
and are charged in the eye of Justice
for every extraordinary discovery in the ensuant history of
sin.