secular "love."

Their hands intertwined, eyes locked, lips magnetize, claiming intimacy.
But his clever lines don't tamper with her past
Unless he's eager to ask
"How many boyfriends have you had?"
He just wants you to be tight.
He just wants you raw.
And not the raw that questions society or philosophy or reality or the anorexia kindling your perfect ass.
He can call you beautiful but jesus, get in line.
I'd rather lay in this bed alone than have your cliché emotions waste my time
You promised me forever
You promised me fervency and respect
I had you on my team
I had you worried about me before you could judge any of my bold statements
And you took it all back
Did I not tell you it was ephemeral
Did I not tell you we're just impulsive
The secular is repulsed by impulse
It knows from the scars of its soul they will only bring more pain than before

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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