Untitled

by Anonymous 

I have burned you out—

it stank

and the smell still lingers in my clothes

my hair

my memories.

So I put some Febreze on that shit and open a window

to air you out.

But

your ashes and dust nestled in the cracks and corners of my home

as if they had the right to be there.

I shift,

and you are back, a cloud that makes me sneeze

cough

gasp for air.

So I blow my nose and grab a drink.

I have burned you out,

however

you still remain as an annoying reminder.

But do not think

that I won’t find another way

to finish what I started.

Trying

by a UT Fourth Year

I’m trying to be normal. I’m trying to re-learn how to love and to be loved.

I’m trying to enter into new relationships. I’m trying to act like sex means nothing to me. I’m trying to tell new lovers the darkest pieces of me and not have them run away the minute they hear the word “survivor.”

I’m trying to live as I did before your hand pushing on the back of my neck took everything away from me. I’m trying to convince myself that it’s even possible.

I’m trying to remove guilt from myself. I’m trying to believe none of this is my fault. I’m trying not to cry.

I’m trying to find someone who will accept my cracks and heal with me. I’m trying to trust that I am not alone.

I’m trying to love myself.

I’m just trying, and it really fucking sucks.

Untitled

by a UTK Sophomore 

Shake, Take, Send,
Awake, Beneath, the End.
Flames, Heat, Burn,
Practice, Communication, Turns.
His response fuels me.

 Up, Slack, or in Between,
His Dick is Mine to See.
From Above, Below, or the Side,
My Pussy is His to Decide.
Our Bodies set us Free. 

 Touch, Bite, Grab,
Tie, Bind, Gag.
Thrust, Moan, Scream,
Hang me up from your Beam.
Don’t make me Plea. 

 Cum, Cum, Cum,
Sweat, Breathing, Numb.
Satisfied, Pleased, Relax,
My Nails have left Tracks. 

I love when We Make Whoopee.

Pissed

By Anonymous 

Why is it when I ask you to come over, you are busy and will try to make it. But when you are horny, I’m the one that has to drop my shit and run to you. Why is it that I am shamed when I invite myself over, that it is “very bold” of me to have even asked. We both agreed to this. So why is it wrong for me to want you but perfectly fine for the opposite?

We set up dates, you bail. I think, ‘Maybe we should start sexting. That will get him to invite me over!’ Instead I get “Cool”, “Yup”, “Nah”, and so fucking help me “K”. I send you nudes, you open them, then send back pictures of your dog. I honestly don’t know why I try with you.

You piss me the fuck off when I just want you to get me off. 

Untitled

By Anonymous

You lie on my bed naked
the sheets only covering the most glorious parts of your
bare body
Talking of where you want to end up

I picture it’s with me

You stare at the ceiling when you talk
making shapes out of the popcorn spatterings
It’s almost too easy for us both
to pretend I’m not in the room

That I’m not melted by the shape of your mouth
when you daydream
That my heart doesn’t swell when you say
you could tell me anything

I beg myself
Not to say it
Not to think it
Not to feel

Not to disturb the delicate balance
of you coming into me in only the rarest moments
So I sit in forced silence while you tell me
about Texas and poetry

Holding my breath
careful not to burst the delicate bubble around
you
me
us

this moment

I know it will burst anyway
I know you will leave anyway
I know I will never forgive myself
for all of the things I do not say

I know I will not say them anyway