Do not call me,

 

when loneliness

fills the empty

void inside you.

 

Do not call me,

 

to ease frustration

that burns between

your thighs.

 

Do not call me,

 

at night,

when you need me

to create satisfaction.

 

Do not call me,

 

if love is not

what your callings

are made of.

 

Do not call me,

 

when you need love

temporarily,

then give me my shoes.

 

Do not call me,

 

if you crave my affection

upon sheet-less beds,

and rough blankets.

 

Do not call me,

 

into your cold home

where emptiness grows,

and becomes contagious.

IMG_3654

The justice and empowerment I felt writing this poem was magical. Never allow your body to become a muse for wandering souls. You are a temple. You are to be worshiped.

 

©aishaadams2018

 

Pinterest Photo

Posted by:A'Isha Adams

Mind of a frantic poet. Ambition of an entrepreneur. The heart of an old soul.

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