“Never have I ever…”

Never have I ever placed my naked flesh in the arms of

the gnarled and crooked branches of

A man’s arms


did not possess the power to rip off pieces of my soul – bit by bit – as though peeling off price tags from his most recent happy purchase from an electronics store.

I am NOT a commodity…

Though America has told me to waste half my life as though I were nothing more

than a walking pussy waiting for someone to put a rock on my finger.

I was a child that wrapped her arms around trees

Thrust her hands into the mud without worrying about

getting my purple dress dirty –

Allowing sweet brown filth to take a nap in the beds of my


I collected rocks and hid them under my pillow –

Carefully giving them names because they were alive and special.

Begging to grow up so that I could take the earth and

my love to a safer place – one where I didn’t have to

hide my rocks because no one would have the power to tell me

that I was not allowed to love whatever I found


What makes anyone think that I would wear a rock on my hand in exchange for birthday cock-sucking and a better tax return?

To lay in a cold bed next to someone who never knew me beyond

an investment – bitter ideology – and the name they force me to wear like a crown when it is nothing more than the removal of my own identity.

I still collect rocks – they are safer in my bedroom

than if they were to be left outside –waiting to be used and

discarded as something without value because they sparkle less

than the ones that you wear in your ears.

I loved every inch of those ears until I realized that they hold nothing between them

But fence lines.

Never have I ever

sat under the stars with someone I loved

and felt them dying less than they are right now

Each breath

Like syrup and heavier

than the one before…

We are infinite and we are empty

We are lost and we cling to one another because we hold so much

Unused love in the overflowing rivers of our veins.

Clinging to the memories we create – created – will never create…                                                           allowing others to dictate what those creations should be

poems never written

broken hearts never allowed to ache

tears never being born

life never lived

forgetting that tomorrow we will die and not even our memories

will sustain the timespan it takes for light to travel to this moment and momentarily twinkle

for our decaying organs to behold in moments of pure awe.

If anyone can remember what it was to feel


Never have I ever

mastered the fear that lines my skeleton like a cage

Shaking my bones from the birth of my dreams

To the resurrection of my nightmares

These metal bars that wrap around my soul like an electric barbed wire fence

Shock me into

Multidimensional views of the coercion of humanity’s consciousness

Hold me in place – paralyzed and aware

Of the destruction all around me.

I have searched for the key to this cage

Under rocks

Under bridges

Under pillows

Under clothes

In the pockets of fraying cardigan sweaters

In-between the lines of poets and philosophers

In the eyes of every person who ever lied and said

That they truly loved me for who I am and not what I                                                                                                                                                           could give them.

The key they say – dissolves sweetly under the tongue

Helps you sleep better too.  Easier breathing.  Less hoping

for a better world.  Just sleep and forget that you

Care a little bit too much sometimes.

Never have I ever believed them.

Never have I ever let them convince me to love

Just a little bit less

Never have I ever let anyone convince me to put my rocks back outside.

But I take the pills – close my eyes and fall numb to the bleeding panic-

the plague of sight that shatters my heart like a mirror that reflects the torture of minds

every second of every last molasses breath I take

it could be my last

though I wish it were

Never have I ever allowed those wishes to stop me

from dreaming.

Dedicated to Jeremiah Walton: The poet who dared the world to write a “never have I ever poem.”  I decided to take the challenge.  Thank you.


About tanyas13sonnets

poet and dreamer
This entry was posted in never have I ever, Poetry/Prose. Bookmark the permalink.

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