Poetry

tame the beast

10pm. swallow.
tame the beast you were born with,
stop your body from counting,
no need to staple your legs shut.
Superwoman,
you look so wonderful
with that man caught between your teeth. 

10pm. swallow.
wake it up early, make it go to bed late.
no need to cry an ocean of pain,
no pools of blood for you to drown in.
a saviour labelled Monday to Sunday,
just scream at yourself instead. 

10pm. swallow.
push his head down,
a siren singing him towards your cave.
he worships you,
a slave to the slit between your wet, thunderous thighs.
— you are more than just the mess, running down your legs. 

10pm. swallow.
your body is a dock but all your boats are out at sea.
one day there will be a flood
but for now,
tame that awful beast.

Sophia Amico