deepundergroundpoetry.com
Regret
I'm a thing.
Watching my master grind against me;
knowing I won't let him have what he craves.
His mouth fumbles over my skin uncoordinated,
a overwhelming virgin boy who only knows what he
wants-what he thinks he needs.
While trying to tell him via subliminal messages,
my hands freeze and swallow some coal.
He'll never know how when he looks away,
my eyes travel to her image;
wishing I hadn't messed things up between us.
Watching my master grind against me;
knowing I won't let him have what he craves.
His mouth fumbles over my skin uncoordinated,
a overwhelming virgin boy who only knows what he
wants-what he thinks he needs.
While trying to tell him via subliminal messages,
my hands freeze and swallow some coal.
He'll never know how when he looks away,
my eyes travel to her image;
wishing I hadn't messed things up between us.
Published 11th Mar 2012
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The author encourages honest critique.
11th Mar 2012 9:17pm
This gives a good impression of how the voice feels like an object. But I get kind of confused in the last verse. Whose eyes travel . . . and whose wish are resposible for each action.
11th Mar 2012 9:20pm
It was supposed to give the impression that I labeled myself an object that was being used by some one. So their my eyes and my regret for letting it all happen.
