People tend to not understand my poetry style or say it's offensive but tell me what you think.
There was a nuisance
From the night before.
I had felt the crest of his fingertips touch my hips.
I had felt the numbs of his wrist bliss across my chin.
I had felt the arch of his tongue against my face.
There was radiance the day after.
I met the stranger. I met his gaze.
“But who’s bed?” I asked.
He closed my eyelids
And said “It’d better than being dead.”
Well it's about my grandma when she was young; she told me how she remembered in blur about being in bed with someone but didn't know who it was...she found out when she was back to normal a man had taken advantage of her. now re-read it to see if you get it
There was a nuisance
From the night before.
I had felt the crest of his fingertips touch my hips.
I had felt the numbs of his wrist bliss across my chin.
I had felt the arch of his tongue against my face.
There was radiance the day after.
I met the stranger. I met his gaze.
“But who’s bed?” I asked.
He closed my eyelids
And said “It’d better than being dead.”
Well it's about my grandma when she was young; she told me how she remembered in blur about being in bed with someone but didn't know who it was...she found out when she was back to normal a man had taken advantage of her. now re-read it to see if you get it