The Sirens
Empty belly for an aching heart.
My head aches as I remain
Cradled in a swaddle of
Unwashed blankets and twice worn clothes.
Beside me, the weight of a body
Pale arm thrown across my back,
Yet I am disconnected.
Disorientated.
Devestated.
For each heartbeat a headache to follow.
No sweet dreams, no dreamless sleep
Weaving the concious and unconciousness,
My mind flooded with unwelcome images
Of spread legs
Swollen breasts
Crimson cunts
Half-awake, seductive grins.
Pale. Pale. Skin.
Their pale skin.
The sirens
With their youthful bodies that
Scream for sex.
Scream for a rhythmic tug.
Scream for the spillage of seed
All over the hands of a enraptured boy.
My enraptured boy.
My boy, who I thought would never look
At anyone else.
And as these sirens flash through my memory
Yet again.
I feel the familiar sensation of a curdled stomach
A dull, empty ache
Like someone gently, kindly numbed me
Before removing whatever they could find inside.
This will leave a mark.
This will have to fade.
This will need some time.
Why this emptiness, why this reaction
Is unknown and yet bitterly acknowledged.
I cannot stand that your mind has wandered.
I cannot stand that your hand has strayed.
I cannot stand that you would look anywhere else,
For the fear that I haven't given enough
Or that you would spend your desires
On bodies that are not mind.
Bodies that are anonymous,
Save for the smiles
Of the girls to which they belong.
My head aches as I remain
Cradled in a swaddle of
Unwashed blankets and twice worn clothes.
Beside me, the weight of a body
Pale arm thrown across my back,
Yet I am disconnected.
Disorientated.
Devestated.
For each heartbeat a headache to follow.
No sweet dreams, no dreamless sleep
Weaving the concious and unconciousness,
My mind flooded with unwelcome images
Of spread legs
Swollen breasts
Crimson cunts
Half-awake, seductive grins.
Pale. Pale. Skin.
Their pale skin.
The sirens
With their youthful bodies that
Scream for sex.
Scream for a rhythmic tug.
Scream for the spillage of seed
All over the hands of a enraptured boy.
My enraptured boy.
My boy, who I thought would never look
At anyone else.
And as these sirens flash through my memory
Yet again.
I feel the familiar sensation of a curdled stomach
A dull, empty ache
Like someone gently, kindly numbed me
Before removing whatever they could find inside.
This will leave a mark.
This will have to fade.
This will need some time.
Why this emptiness, why this reaction
Is unknown and yet bitterly acknowledged.
I cannot stand that your mind has wandered.
I cannot stand that your hand has strayed.
I cannot stand that you would look anywhere else,
For the fear that I haven't given enough
Or that you would spend your desires
On bodies that are not mind.
Bodies that are anonymous,
Save for the smiles
Of the girls to which they belong.