Kisses feel like rocks pressed
against my face leaving
imprints, to let you
know you've had me.
My title as woman has
been broken down to
property parts sold
on your lawn along
with the rest of the yard
sale.
What am I to you?
What am I to myself?
Too many irregular
thoughts run to
obtain the spaces
in my head. For once
I wish sleep could
take over these heavy
eyelids and drown me
in a deep dark slumber.
Love used to mean so much
to me, now it's as empty
as your body next to mine.
You use to move me like
rushing waves of ecstasy
but somehow I've been
pulled under yet another
romance.
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