Always Circles for Me

I don't know why I am in a poem mood; maybe the elusive language is so unverisal that it can say what I am going through now as it did when I first wrote it, but not tell you anything. Because I don't want to tell you anything, but I want to tell you everything. And if it can tell the same story now as it did years ago, where is my progress? Where am I learning? New pain, old pain. Same pain, same day.

Sugar Sweet Sugar Girl

You bought that pink popsicle dress

with it's sticky sweet bows.

The zipper whistled alarm

as it slid down your back.

You pucker with tension because you want him in you

But your brow pulls tight with disapointment.

And you punish yourself

because you think it's your fault.

So you hang up your dress

with it's drippy, pink sash.

And you clean up your legs and in between

And he licks his fingers and warms his hands.

But you're cold.

Lucky You?

So you found a girl who will suck you off
While humming your mother's lullaby
But she treats you good and rips you off
And you're empty while she swallows.

Daddy's in the backyard shooting at the truck
Desperately wishing on your lucky star.
She shoves the swollen nail into your coffin
As you come so she can leave.