I’m Not Meat 

​I’m not a piece of meat 

hanging on your every


I don’t need your approval
your lascivious lustful lechery
leaves me cold

I feel your eyes crawling
over my skin


grasping and emboldened
by the curve of my breast
the sway of my hip
my erect nipples

its the cold dontcha know

my easy confidence mistook
a welcome mat
an open invitation
to dirty me with your lewd suggestions

your predatory insinuations veiled
as compliments

great breasts
nice arse
cold in here is it love

In one breath
I’m reduced to a shopping list
of body parts


it’s not me 

your sense of male entitlement
pollutes you

fuck you?  no thanks

come back to your place?  rather not

cyber sex?  what gave you that idea!

I think not…

I belong to me and I belong to him
and in that shared belonging
that togetherness
that loving
there’s a silence
a tenderness
a fierce passion
an exclusivity that
excludes all others

but most especially you
and your dirty eyes
and your innuendo

I respectfully suggest

you take your testosterone-fuelled
misogynistic self
away from me

go piss on some other territory.

I’m taken. 


About Marie

An eccentric & quirky artist and writer who fills her time between fantasy roleplaying sessions with painting, writing and playing her guitar (rather badly). Usually to be found with paint-stained fingers surrounded by books and tubes of acrylic paint.
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