My Body, Your Choice

Mon, 10/09/2017 - 22:21 -- aburke3

Look at me up and down as

You lick your tainted hungry lips

Does my meat not appeal to you?

Does my pale skin not make your mouth salivate?

As I put my body on display for you to 

Analyze which parts of me you like best. 

Go ahead discuss if you prefer my legs or my breasts,

And how picking my bones from your teeth is sooo much of a hassle.

 

You can have me all to yourself

Or dine over me with all of your friends.

Spent my whole life in a cramped cage

For this exact moment.

Being forcefed with a tube jammed down my throat

Gasping to catch my breath

Seasoned up in this pretty makeup,

Seasoned up in these appealing clothes,

Seasoned up to keep my mouth shut, 

So you can silence my screams.

I'm suffocating 

Because its hard to live under these conditions 

 

But dont be hesitant to have a bite

Consuming my tender flesh only gives you health risks

Majority of the time.

I could've sworn that my body could lactate,

And that I can in fact feel pain.

I am all of those things you claim

I could never go a day without.

 

Because wanting me is primal instinct right?

It's justified.

 

Tell me do you prefer me well done or rare?

Blood is pouring out from my slit neck

I'm fearful of you now

Taking your knife and skinning my soft body

Till I'm just bones bare,

Exposed to you 

Because you chose to value your own selfish desires over my life.

 

Your actions have consequences,

And your tastebuds desire death sentences.

 

So tell me does my pale flesh appetize you even now?

Stripped down and cut cold

It's my body...but it's your choice.

 

All of me that you have 

Was not yours to take

And now my body lays in waste,

Is it satisfying to get the picture perfect product of your desires?

Never will I feel the lush grass beneath my feet,

See open land spread out in front of me

Or any of the deep greens in the trees' leaves.

Never will I know the joy to have enough space to play 

Or even to feel the sun's rays of light against my face.

No, I spent my whole life in a cramped cage.

For this exact moment.

 

Stripped down and cut cold. 

This poem is about: 
Me
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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