I confess—
I digress—
My words are a mess,
and they leave me less
than empty.

I tell them,
I've never had sex.
God bless
you child.
Stay meek and mild
for a while.

Do say more
You whore.
Just let me score
you this once, please?
You're a tease.
I'll do anything to please
a man I think I need.

Start to sober up
and I think I've had enough.
All this stuff
I confess--my love
or lack thereof.
My skin is rough
but the inner core is tough
like steel.

I feel
I've said too much.
Click of stilettos on the pavement
and every digression,
every confession,
turns to dust.
Why have I placed my trust
in the rust
of a shallow lust?

Brinn W.