Not All Men

 

The day he left was the day it all started

That day I decided to tread into waters uncharted.

I acknowledged how fun it was to be a sight that men drool to see

Because he left with his mouth dry and no desire to devour me.

 

I posted pictures for strangers to gwack at

I asked what they wanted to hear and became their place mat,

For them put on me whatever course they wanted to consume

I was customizable, for I have been many different fetishes within my room.

 

I never truly have been turned on by any of it

I just liked finally being a puzzle piece that fit.

I enjoyed feeling relevant to a man’s orgasm from thousands of miles away

Because I couldn’t be relevant to a guy who knew my soul and just didn’t want to stay.

 

After weeks of playing characters I became very able

In the art of taking a man and making myself his favorite meal at the table.

I realized that I could be doing a lot more

That no one around me was aware I was such a whore,

 

So I became the play toy for one guy after the next

I would do everything they wanted except for penetrative sex

Because part of me still felt like that belonged

To someone like the guy who was in the back of my mind all along.

 

Whenever they’d ask why they couldn’t go further

Said no and diverted their attention by making them harder

I wanted them to go to their lunch tables and see me as divine

Or say “hey have you fucked with her yet, because it’s one hell of a time”.

 

I never meant for any of it to turn into a crime.

 

I learned that not all men know how to hear no

I learned that not all men will let you go.

 

He didn’t waste any time answering me when I asked what he wanted me to be

Because he knew that what he wanted was something that I didn’t need to achieve.

What he wanted was for me to be exactly who I was

And who I was unwilling and scared and out of control

I was a meal that wasn’t on the placemat, rather just some scraps in a dog bowl.

 

Even though I said no more times than I can recall

I always wonder if one more could’ve stopped him from taking it all

I always wonder if I fought harder, if I didn’t give in

To the pain I was feeling and hopelessness of his fingers digging into my skin

Would I still want to be touched by a man?

Because today a man’s eyes on me is something I cannot stand.

 

I cannot stand in a room without feeling his hands

In the places wherever men’s eyes would land.

When a man looks into my eyes

I feel his hands opening my thighs.

 

I cannot imagine even giving a guy a hug

Because fear is under my feet like an ugly scratchy rug.

His voice was scratchy in my ear

My face was ugly drowned in tears.

 

Yet I still hear that I should chill,

Because not all men disrespect your free will.

Give it a break and don’t you dare call

All men untouchable because one made you "oppress" us all.

 

Not all men are rapist

Do you think I don’t fucking know that?

One instance was enough for my emotions for all to fall flat.

I’m not being oppressive I’m just so terrified

Because I also know not all men are the good guys.

 

My intention was to forget about the first guy who hurt me by leaving

And I found a man who scared me forever, by not going, by thieving,

One thing that I thought I could still call mine.

Not all men will listen when you decline.

 

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

Comments

TheFailThePro

This is such a strong poem. I can relate to it but to those who can't, will be able to feel the emotion that you poured into this poem. Well done. 

Grant-Grey Porter Hawk Guda

Powerful expression. Always let poetry fill your life. 

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