Day 176 of the 365 day poem challenge.
Word of the day torpid meaning:
"in a condition of biological rest or suspended animation."
Fall from Grace
She fell on him
She had never felt that way
That dizzy that sensual
She was an object and
He subjugated her
And all the cliches were true
She was beauty incarnate and
He made her so with each
Aching thrust
It hurt and then it didn't
And then she wanted it to hurt
Then it hurt again
It hurt when people watched her
It hurt when she tried to cover up
It hurt after she covered her shame
No clothes were large enough to conceal
So she let such cares scatter themselves to the wind
She opened her mouth and her body
She splayed herself across the streets
She was lashed and bruised
Under the weight of all that contempt and judgment
The throne she'd briefly occupied had become a prison
Platitudes came easily
Falsehood is easy when it's essential
He saw nothing significant
He saw no sacrifice
He saw nothing special
And so she questioned it all
But she continued on as she must
Her emotions, her face, her legs remained torpid through the seasons
She had finally reached the end of the beginning.
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