cinnamon kisses
the curls in her hair
my wishes
in the way she stares
choking on bliss
like perfumed air
whatever this is
I haven't a care

He asks me to open up
and so I do.

My legs,
my mouth,
my skin.

I offer up bits and pieces
of my flesh but
never myself.

And if he chews me to shreds,
I only hope that he likes the taste
of a girl half-dead in his bed.

I used to feel so easy to love but maybe
I’m just eager to please
because no one thinks
to love the girl
who looks best
down
on
her
knees.

They step on my knuckles and it’s a compliment
to stand and watch me bleed.
Wrap my hair around
their wrists and smile,
fill my mouth
with
their
cursed
seed.

They tell me not to cry, or think, or speak, but I
have been crushed between teeth
and swallowed quickly
more times than not.
Scared to rot,
they
live
off
greed.