I wish I could be more

I wish I could unlock your every secret

and mold them to your desires. 

I wish I was never born to this body— 

tethered to this stubborn flame,

waiting for a stray gust of wind 

to extinguish me.

I wish I was enough to appease the temperance of your gaze. Throaty mornings gazing at the dawn, I swayed in your arms. Rocking with the waves, my hair smelling like coconut and tequila, you leaned down and said, “I wish you could be more.”

Sobbing in your arms, my limbs twined around your neck, you found a way to break me, sever me with the disappointment in your eyes.

I wish I could be soft and gentle. Soothing and comforting—like a mother or a sister. I wish my body was pliable enough to bend and shape. A body born to manipulate. A body to fuck and shake— to throw against walls and demand apologizes for my mistake.

I wish this world allowed me to be me— to be a mistake. I wish there was a place for a woman with more strength than subservience. I’m all throns and ruby petals, teeth and claws, I’m the press of teeth before the artery sprays and you’re down on all fours. I’m a beast underneath skin that feels like nothing more than a cage. I’m damned to shift and adapt until my teeth ache. I will always be not enough in his eyes— I will never sate his desires to dominate and control.

I’m too much and not enough in a world where you are expected to break.

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