Did you know

that sex

can be a form of self harm?

 

She sits at her favorite coffee shop,

exchanging glances with passing strangers.

She’s looking for love,

for someone to tell her

she’s enough.

 

She still remembers that night

dark, crowded,

alone.

Rough heavy hands plastered on her

continuing as she said no.

 

A piece of her soul,

or an hour of her time,

for a false connection

that just wouldn’t hold.

 

When love and connection 

is all that you want,

when trial by high rings of fire 

aren’t enough.

 

When your words become obsolete,

thats when you learn.

Nothing will ever be enough,

you’ll never be heard.

 

What do words mean

when they come out silent,

ignored.

Her throat starts constricting,

thoughts start conflicting 

her battered feet are feeling sore.

 

She tried to scream,

but no one listened.

The silence is too loud,

her mouth is sewn shut.

She’s meant to be seen, but not heard.

 

Dusk falls,

she cries,

but by dawn she’s anew.

Deep cherry red smile, 

no one knows she feels blue.

 

She laughs, and she’s calm,

inside she breaks.

She grabs her porcelain coffee mug and put it to her face.

The man sitting across the coffee shop

gives her a glance

 

Is this love?

Or maybe even, a chance 

To forget

​

- Misha Puello Brasil