Loose Women by Sheryl Wentworth Woods
I didn’t like myself
so I gave myself away,
piece by piece
chunk by chunk.
Would you care for a thigh?
Perhaps a breast is more to your desire.
Oh!
It’s my MIND you lust for.
I’ve a headache but go ahead
take it.
My heart?
Gladly!
I’ll cut it out
where I hoard and nurse the pity
suckling deep beneath my breast.
Take it.
If I could find my soul
I’d give it to you.
But it got lost without a body,
and my body got lost without a soul.
I gave them all away
until there was nothing left to give.
There is no longer me.
I am a trick
of the mind’s eye,
a mere reflection
of what you want of me.
Fuck it.
Take it.
Photo by Remy Loz on Unsplash