My confidence was defined
by the length of my belt.
Measured by the inch,
it was the only source of validation
I had for myself.
When all else failed,
I could rely
on pleasing someone else,
Because the amplitude
of her moan
reassured me I was of help.
If not that, then what else?
It was one of the first
emotions that I felt.
It started when I was young,
I was barely able to spell.
Over time, I was denied
a healthy path to excel.
Only to be bred
into a matrimony of hell.
What did I do
to become destined
to fail?
Didn’t ask to be born,
the only exit is death.
In order to survive,
I had to learn to suppress
what I wanted
to give others what I had left.
Since it was a familiar
experience,
I focused on sex,
which gave me a new purpose
to adapt and accept.
I was infiltrated by pleasure,
it gave attention whenever
I was rejected,
and to commemorate its arrival,
a tower was erected.
Poetry 