Transitional Shame

My name is not as strong as yours.

You taunt my fragility.

A quiet sunset dips into creation,

Tugging on my hair, you whisper,

Come here.

Your knuckles show signs of holding prisoners captive,

I slightly shudder in your

Embrace. The knowledge you

Could swiftly pull my joints

And hips apart, bury

Yourself in the core of my

Femininity. Leftover

Thoughts from bedroom

Scenes at the age of eighteen.

My virginity now a fossilized relic,

I worry of what you might find.

Staring at women who

Are beyond sexualizing,

An ocean foams and erupts, gushing

Through my wrinkled veins.

Neither jealousy nor bitterness,

I ache for a different thread

To be woven into my life.

Yearning for time to creep

Back into nothingness,

You peel my fingers from your face.

A bee sting pricks my pride,

My body sags with the weight of abandonment.

Blurry faces kiss me in

My dreams -- a transition into

Night terrors. Wake me,

Can you feel my shame spill out?