stimulate me

turning the pole into all the men who have used me as an object

i’ve allowed myself to feel this way

it’s painful, reckoning, eye-opening, cohesive.

i feel this metal object putting me together.

people feel this way about their guns, their swords, their knives, their hammers, their everything.

you need something to ground you.

perhaps turning myself into a music box

inside and out

winding myself up.

i’ve started writing again.

i sing by myself

i spit poetically and fearlessly

thanking the demons i’ve rejected
holding them closer

loving you more
touching your face
you’re far but i smell you
i promise that’s not a bad thing

give me time to fall together

stimulate me.


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