Poetry Monday: His and Hers

She’s rough
                        He’s almost too big
She grinds on my hips
                        It hurts but feels good
The friction burns
                        That’s the right spot
She moans
                        Why does he make that face?
While I’m inside
                        He doesn’t like it
I can only think of
                        He doesn’t like me
The friction
                        He doesn’t like my body
I’m uncomfortable
                        I’m not sexy
I can’t satisfy her

From the poetry collection Men Are Garbage.

Flashback Friday Poetry: Untitled

Children flying in the skies
Hiding from my eyes
Ignoring all the lies
Listening to all the cries
Don’t ever let them realize
My life is wrong in your eyes
Oh how the children cry
Little tears come from their eyes
Easier to pretend it’s not real
Still it happens
The children don’t know
Everything to them is unknown
Ripe young children, come play with me

Early poetry from James. From the poetry collection Pariah Bound: The Lonesome Poetry.