Warning: This poem contains a lot of mention to the aspect of being slutty. If you are a minor and not comfortable reading sexual content.Do not proceed.
The casual fling, just your hormones' cling;
Some nights you want, some days you ring.
I am just a thing, that will pass in a ding.
You're my king, but, I am just your swing.
I wanna be your everything, not the girl, at night, you bring!
Want to be the one wearing your ring. Alas!I am just your binge!
A sex toy can substitute, A dummy or even a prostitute.
Maybe its the pleasure to pursuit my dignity and repute.
I know it pleases when you receive my teases;
Even my heart freezes, when my body eases with your cheeses.
My body you love, my soul you shove.
But you say I am a dove, conceive me with an "I'm above.".
Funny I believe, even when I grieve;
Kisses did I thieve, Hopes will I weave!
And when you swiftly leave on an autumn eve,
Cleaving from my appeal, No longer can I feel.
And then verity strike, Much to your dislike,
'You' -I like, very much even to fight!
And then you strike, "You are not my type",
And I remember the hike, when, you said, 'me'- you like.
But I am not the girl you marry, just the one you carry!
Even that under cover you bury, why-nobody wants a doxy!
I am not your everyday charmer, just your night warmer.
It hurts cause: Bummer, You are still my Knight in shiny Armour!
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Quote:
"If they substituted the word 'Lust' for 'Love' in the popular songs it would come nearer the truth."
-Sylvia Plath, the Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath.
Written for the good girls that got bad,
Written to let them know of their companions spread wide.
~Chaahat
YOU ARE READING
Khamoshiyaan
PoetryTHE VOICE OF SILENCE. Sometimes silence describes a situation far better than words ever will, Sometimes a strange set of words describe paints it years later; The limits are set and broken by the words , The reticence ,muteness and reserve let out...
