Her Perspective/Generations

 

His touch makes me feel misunderstood
His glare gives me a sense of hope
He'll turn around and leave me stuck with his back
He gives me his tongue, which I cannot tote
I love his body

His mental captures me with every thought
His ideas thrust into my heart
I've fallen in love with someone's son
your intellect, it is my sun
Brighter days

I feel your words like bee stings
they hurt
but they keep me moist
beneath this skirt
I'm on top

I taste his passion with every bite
I take a dose of him everyday
morning
night

Between me, hear he goes
its become so routine
I've become automatic, useless
on and off, I'm his machine
just something to do
to spare the time
sweat, we do
breathe, we chew
we finish on a dime

I'm clay
being molded to his desires
I'm desperate
who wants worn out tires?
ran through the mud
collided with fists as hard as rocks
fury as thick as dreads on this brothers head
that I pull,
when I want to rule
or I cut
when he needs a nut

It's all relative
from one girl to another,
question is, does the cycle stop?
soon, I'll be a mother

Generations


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Pinterest picture from “art canyon”
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