She comes to me in the dark
To take me up in her arms
As I cry on into the night.

Anger, shame, rage. Filthy animals.
All of them with dicks. Arseholes.
I won't ever be the same again
More scars upon my soul.

She strokes my hair
A sweet, feminine touch
Caressing my face, my lips.
She strokes away my hiccups
And I find peace.

Never again I say to her
She smiles knowing otherwise
For I've never been one
To stay on either side for long.


Childhood Works

Siobhan's Glass (short story)

Noises of Silent Worlds (poetry)

Membrane Drum Mosiac (poetry)

The Sunroom (short story)

Adult Works

Breaking Free (short story)

Coil (poetry)

Trouble Pooping? (birth satire)

Wyld Womyn (column)

Explict Prose & Poetry

copyright © Lisa Morgan 2007-2012