STITCHES

She: “Look at you.

Carefully sewn into the social fabric,

That governs you,

Assimilates you.

Too falsely comfortable,

To break open the stitches,

Give into your urges,

Your itches.

To indulge in what your body craves.

What your chest aches for.

For what is it that you truly know of yourself,

If not what you crave?

If not how you behave,

When the lights are low,

And you are high?

If you’ve never been unstitched,

Been detached,

Been carried.

Look at you.

We could have been light,

If you would end the fight,

Between you and those stitches.”

---

---

RAGE

She: “How long have you been living for someone else?

Living under them.

Letting them pour into your cavities,

To fill themselves.

Letting them make a home in your core,

Letting them inhale through your lungs,

Letting them strip you bare,

While you bear in mind,

That your time,

Your kind,

Have not been yours in years.

That you have been potted,

Planted,

Then plucked.

Only to be tucked away,

Below a ceiling,

Above a mattress,

Beneath your wage.

How long have you been living for yourself?

How long have you lived in rage?”

---

---

UNWIND

She: “You know,

We live in the unfortunate reality,

Where satisfaction is taught.

Attraction is bought.

Acceptance is sought.

In the unfortunate reality,

Where the figurative is brought into the physical,

The sensational is sensationalized,

The moral is elective,

The physical is selective,

And the immoral is immortalized. 

Where arousal is governed,

Compassion is steered,

Bodies are pounded until minds are cleared.

Wombs are unholy, 

Pleasure is defined.

Are you still wondering,

Why you cannot unwind?”