Attention giving men as convoluted as the child predator passed yesterday
Skin glistens faintly as they motion for me to come near
Mouths ajar as if they are tasting the air for foul meat
Lips pucker like fish hungrily awaiting food when money is mentioned
Some strands of hair turn grey as if the sun has hit me with a direct ray
Wrinkles are so common it's almost as if my eyes are a permanent teachers lounge
They’re etched into my face with a wicked tool
My hips sway but they creak and crack almost as if I'm a tree limb that's about to snap
Keys, rings, and the finer things are hand plucked as if Zeus himself handed me his bolts
Fingers nimble and slim can’t take much more of markers and hand sanitizer
With teeth as yellow as the cheese in Big Macs too frequently eaten for dinner on Mondays
A mommy car that drives like the first high school beaten down mini passed down from a sibling.
I haven’t had kids so my stomach hasn’t swelled like bubblegum
My skin isn’t as bright and lively its black like my coffee…. always been actually..
Dresses or nothing at all that's how I’m living
Bras are for suckers with big tits and big dreams
Lips are so dry my Vaseline looks at me and laughs.. Tells me a "yo mama" joke instead
My cheeks aren’t naturally botox high
they’re sullen like reality
My smile is a working woman,
I no longer give her away to men
I wear my heels and I wear my flats my two companions that won’t leave me at the first sign of free beer..
Red lipstick my vibrant repellent its color so repulsive it's as if my heart bled all over my lips
Feet are calloused and cracked every odor has a story
Still I hold onto the childish notion that I could be loved.
Author Bio:
Emily is a debater and a writer, she finds joy in creating works of fiction during the week, and debating on the weekends. She enjoys, experimental form, poetry, and creative-nonfiction. Emily draws inspiration from friends, family, and the contemporary world.
Skin glistens faintly as they motion for me to come near
Mouths ajar as if they are tasting the air for foul meat
Lips pucker like fish hungrily awaiting food when money is mentioned
Some strands of hair turn grey as if the sun has hit me with a direct ray
Wrinkles are so common it's almost as if my eyes are a permanent teachers lounge
They’re etched into my face with a wicked tool
My hips sway but they creak and crack almost as if I'm a tree limb that's about to snap
Keys, rings, and the finer things are hand plucked as if Zeus himself handed me his bolts
Fingers nimble and slim can’t take much more of markers and hand sanitizer
With teeth as yellow as the cheese in Big Macs too frequently eaten for dinner on Mondays
A mommy car that drives like the first high school beaten down mini passed down from a sibling.
I haven’t had kids so my stomach hasn’t swelled like bubblegum
My skin isn’t as bright and lively its black like my coffee…. always been actually..
Dresses or nothing at all that's how I’m living
Bras are for suckers with big tits and big dreams
Lips are so dry my Vaseline looks at me and laughs.. Tells me a "yo mama" joke instead
My cheeks aren’t naturally botox high
they’re sullen like reality
My smile is a working woman,
I no longer give her away to men
I wear my heels and I wear my flats my two companions that won’t leave me at the first sign of free beer..
Red lipstick my vibrant repellent its color so repulsive it's as if my heart bled all over my lips
Feet are calloused and cracked every odor has a story
Still I hold onto the childish notion that I could be loved.
Author Bio:
Emily is a debater and a writer, she finds joy in creating works of fiction during the week, and debating on the weekends. She enjoys, experimental form, poetry, and creative-nonfiction. Emily draws inspiration from friends, family, and the contemporary world.
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