Since when has speech become akin to sex?

All accountability falls out, lifeless, writhing

On the floor in a snake’s pattern.

I do not simply speak to you, I fuck you in the

Backseat of a car, under the glow of a TV,

When your parents aren’t home.

Yet to you, I merely speak.

This word invalidates all emotions, places a thin

Screen of fragile masculine plastic between us

And curtails all hope of connection.

How can you expect to have a genuine

Relationship if you hold others at arm’s length,

Summing up every action, every touch, every

Experience into a single word? Talking.

We “talk,” but you do not listen.

This poem is about: 
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741