Exposed

Journal, Personal, Poetry, Sexuality

Invasion, fear, personal space.
Adrenalin, anxiety, closing off.

Legs tighten, breasts can’t be hidden,
hips protrude into the light.

I cannot hide. My body is on display,
like an exhibit in a museum.

People stare, people comment,and I must stay still
pretend to not be awake.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s