My Body Cannot Do More
First times are messy.
But mine was worse.
I can still feel his tongue
I can feel his mouth on me
Feel his warmth, taste his cigarettes.
Everything was great
He was great; I was not.
He did everything right.
Everything was right.
Trustful and friendship,
Care and respect
But my body cannot do more.
Until he put two fingers in,
I felt myself begin to bleed
It hurt but I could handle it.
It’s happened before with someone uncaring
But he is caring and it hurts.
Close my eyes, push through the pain.
He stops and it’s fine.
But I want to please him.
I want more, but my body doesn’t.
He wants more and his body does too. But
My body cannot do more.
Despite the wetness, despite the blood
Despite good feelings, despite the trust
My body cannot do more.
One... two... three,
And no. My body cannot do more.
My body cannot do more.
We stop. I shower. We dress.
I clear the only evidence of my failure.
We relax, joke around- we talk until he sleeps.
He sleeps and I cry in the bathroom as I pee.
I don’t want to wake him up. I write a note.
“I’m sorry again. S.R.Y. Sorry.”
I grab my things, open the door and hope I don’t wake him as I leave. I cry all the way home as I continue to bleed, with a wad of toilet paper between my legs.
On the phone with an online stranger friend, with my friends not being there, I tell what happened.
I said, “My body could not do more.”
