The Tongue On My Back Poem by Jacob Underwood

Grit my skin down to paper and my sinews to twine
My back eroding to wear just what you needed right then
To only be what's wanted by the lustful haughty wishes of men

Even with my open back I'm the bottom of the donation bin asking when
it'll be over but I know it's something I was made for so instead I'll lay in a briar of faux- zen
As the hole in my heart falls farther I just watch as my ribs sing out a small cowering- whine

I'll hollow out my skeleton just into the aged fossils that I can make into their shrine
I'll just let my hollow shell do the talking mixing my sight into a fine wine
Pulled apart by his tongue like a smashed limping fowl yet it's still marks my backs I'll-gotten

Throwing around my ragdoll of a body as my skull shatters into thousands of- thoughts only guilt-ridden
Burning it down one by one till all my reason is gone left only with the filthy swine
I'm just left here a husk with a hole of vines in my heart covered in pine

I'll just sit here laying out my cry's as a wilted fishline
Just to grasp out until my hands find another puppeteer to use me again as that's all- I'm good for always a decline
I know I'll always be like this always willing to cut myself up to make even
But this is my purpose to be a ragdoll I just hope the rays survive the hogpen