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    ode to an asexual

    CONTENT WARNING:

    This page contains:

    • Abuse
    • Acephobia
    • Drug use
    • Sex

    You tell me

    Oh baby we just need

    To get it on

    You tell me

    Sex is what makes us human

     

    I just need to try it

    Again, perhaps,

    If it did not work the first time

    Again

    Yeah, again

    Sex is what makes us human

     

    I made myself cry

    Going into this

    Is it not natural?

    How can you say you do not want it?

     

    There must

    Be something

    Wrong

    With me

    I get drunk and feel strong

    I scream in rollercoasters

    I cry at movies

    I devour books whole

    When I write I

    Feel free

    I am free

    I

     

    But sex

    Our enjoyment of it

    Is what makes us

    Differ

    From the animals

    The animals

    Rutting, mindless animals

     

    I do not enjoy it

    There must be something

    Wrong with me

    You say

    There must

    Be something wrong

    With me

     

     

    Well you see

    I like the feel

    Of a book’s spine

    In my hands

    Still unbroken

    I like

    The taste of orange

    Bursting on my tongue

    I like when I

    Close my eyes

    And see

    Your face

    I like

    Wine on a summer’s day

     

    Scott tells me

    ‘be virtuous’

    Will tells me

    ‘to a nunnery’

    Gustave tells me

    None of it matters

    Do you want to be made love to,

    Or do you want to be fucked?

     

    Neither, I say

    And you scoff at me

    I like

    Wine on a summer’s day

    The love of my life

    Does not like rollercoasters

    I do not push

    I love rollercoasters

    The love

    Of my

    Life

    Does not like wine

    Does not like alcohol

     

    I feel

    A freak

    Going crying

    From a doctor’s office

    This Obsession

    Everyone has

    That I do not share

     

    I joke

    About it

    Even to me

    Sex is funny

    And I am

    Too

    Smart-mouthed

    To keep it shut

    (it is the only smart thing about me)

     

    Sex is funny

    When it’s a joke

     

    I like wine on a summer’s day

    I like the taste of orange bursting on my tongue

    I like the love of my life, their face, their voice, their hair

    I like the crack of a book’s spine broken in my hands

    I like when I see your

    Face

     

    Dear Mary’s creature asked

    Is there none in the world like me,

    And am I then a monster?

    If I could only love

    Despite my

    ‘defect’

    If there was only some like me

     

    If I could only love

    (it is synonymous with sex

    Is it not)

    I say

    To the love of my life

    And they hold me

    And remind me

    It is not

    And you can

     

    And I do


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