Poetry and Prose

Dirty Abused Masochist

I’m dirty.
Filthy and unclean,
Pristinely obscene.
Coming out of a porn star’s wet dream,
Face smudged and going full steam.

I’m abused.
Beaten and used,
Lustfully bruised.
Played with like a toy
For the sick amusement and joy
Of a man who had a thing for little boys.

I’m a masochist.
Cuts on flesh,
Ecstatic breaths.
With drug filled veins,
Ravages of a chemical fueled teen
Happily touching razors to wrist.

But I’m long past harm.
Forget about the scars on my arms,
Focus on the ones in my mind,
The scabbed and festering kind.

I was wired insane like this,
To mix pain with pleasurable bliss.
I’m wearing a pretty mask like this,
Hiding the hideousness of this mess.
I was made to feel like this,
A dirty abused masochist.
I’ve lived most of my life like this,
We can’t all be innocent.

-D.A. Baker


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