god must’ve made me , strictly
to be broken open —
and
you look at me with such innocent eyes ,
but
i know you see
right through
me ,,
so
tell me , do you want me to
strip ?
please you?
there’s a hunger in your voice
and i know i’ve heard it
before —
you
are like everyone and
everyone likes
me
but i do not falter ,
and i will never, ever break,
because
every time i touch myself,
god gets on his
knees .
.
Ive been really interested in ****** poetry lately and have been trying to write more of it, but every time I try I get really embarrassed. The title of this poem and ending lines I wrote a long time ago, and I’d been meaning to write the rest of it because I loved the concept so much but just never wrote something that fit. Yesterday I met a way too friendly man at my restaurant and it scared me, so this is about him. I wrote a raunchier version too but I don’t think it’s as good.
