synonyms
hey sexy, sad-eyed-china-doll
you’re here alone again, aren’t you?
he’s right and he’s right and he
makes spiders crawl up your spine
and burrow in your hair
you need someone else to fill your bones tonight
hey sexy, low-cut-dress
bet i can guess your favorite drink
voice of the beard behind you at the bar asking for more and more
and more of you while
tangling his fingers in your hair
all the right words from all the wrong people
hey sexy, red-red-lips-smile-now
i can tell your mama never warned you
hand on your back
hand on your hip
hand on your thigh
hot coal fingers, hot coal blood
hey sexy, show-me-more
got a pretty red car just like your lipstick
and the seats are leather and it’s just an invitation so
it has to be okay
he has to be okay
this has to be okay
hey sexy, love-me-back-or-i’ll-make-you
tangled up in bedsheets, can’t get out
kicking around the blankets because your dignity has to be here somewhere
with that pretty little low cut dress you hate now
lipstick stains on the pillowcase but
you were never here
you were never here
you couldn’t have been here
hey sexy, cover-up-and-i-might-treat-you-right
you get the respect when i don’t want you in my bed anymore
retch up his words, toss them anywhere
they can’t live in you anymore
burn that little black dress to ash
throw that red red lipstick from your bedroom window
shower all his skin off yours, but
don’t this on blame your dress
don’t blame this on your lipstick
don’t blame this on your skin
this was not your fault
this was not your fault
this was not your fault.
the boys that teach you
the first boy, he tells you
how he likes the way your dress does what it does
how he likes to watch your skin bounce and curve and stretch
and he forgets to say bruise even though he means that, too
but
like your best friend tells you
that shirt never covered you all the way
you knew that when you bought it
if you wanted respect you would have dressed like it
he talks to you and you know exactly what he wants
you just don’t know how to give it to him
and he never forgets to kiss his knuckles first
the second boy
he comes up behind you in the bar
because he knows exactly why you’re there and he tells you he can fix it
he tells you he can make you less lonely
he tells you he can change things for the better
he teaches you how he says love works
as he presses you to the bed and says “don’t move
this isn’t supposed to scare you”
but it does
you just keep your mouth closed
because he told you
“this is how it works”
and no one ever showed you anything different
so you take it and you take it and you take it
until he tells you he’s bored and heads back to the bar to find somebody new
third, there’s the boy with the sweet-talking lips
that by now
know your skin better than you do
he can coat his forked tongue with honey
and waits to unsheath it until you are in his bed
he uses words like baby and sweetie
and you listen
because these are the kinds of words you are supposed to want to hear
when he adds on words about how you are always the problem
you take it
because they always told you that you’d break hearts and
you’re supposed to want to learn what people think
so you can change
and you do
then there comes a boy who learned it late
but he learned it, he really did
and he knows what love means and he knows you don’t
so he teaches you
and this is a definition made out of words you don’t know
and you like it better this time
he knows that you’re afraid but he doesn’t let you stay that way
no
he teaches you everything he’s learned about what to do when they’re trembling
and he doesn’t coax you into bed with whispers
he doesn’t hold you close when you ask him not to
he doesn’t call you anything he doesn’t mean
he teaches you that you are enough and it hasn’t stopped hurting yet
but he tells you that you are safe now
and you believe him.
pennies
he comes up behind you at the bar after work tonight
because he knows exactly why you’re there
his lips are ravens when they ask “penny for your thoughts?”
and you smile and tell him everything even though
you know they are worth at least a quarter
and you feel like a million pennies when he slides his
hand down your back and
tells you how your dress makes you look like that
actress in the movie he likes so much and
he likes your skin even better
he asks if he can buy you a drink and he knows what you want
((because, baby, he’s done this before))
and he pays seven hundred more pennies for it
the drink is so ice cold
but you are warm warm warm and
all the drinks he buys you won’t cool you down
because his lips are warm too when they
whisper that they want more of you
((the ride in his car costs another two hundred pennies))
you wake up between empty sheets with
nothing but a headache and
memories of pretty words and pretty drinks
((and now you’re cold))
and maybe he never told you
the truth at all in the bar last night because
he paid six hundred and ninety-nine more pennies for your drink than
for your thoughts.
sarah kate o. is an amateur poet from north carolina who hates describing herself and rebels against capital letters. she is trying to toss her voice into a world already filled with noise and may have nothing meaningful to say. she has previously been published in “the rising phoenix review” and can be found at allthesinkingships.tumblr.com.