Nicole may not be new, but the poem is.
My body has been used;
tossed to the ground
to wipe away indiscretions,
and the grinding filth
of lying whores.
My heart has been starved;
cupped in sweaty palms
to ease burdens,
and the murky hypocrisy
of righteous men.
My spirit has been wrung;
pulled inside of fists
to stretch truths,
and the sour hesitation
of bitter regret.
My soul has been worn;
placed upon rails
to catch tears,
and the heavy wetness
of desperate sins.
© Nicole Lyons 2017
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