Shallow

I am not a doll

something to be taken off of a shelf

played with

when the mood strikes

I am not a robot

programmed

to turn on and off

at your whim

I am not a toy

something for temporary amusement

I am a flower

an organic, living thing

Without care and attention

I wither

and die

An orchid

only blossoming under meticulous conditions and care

My desire does not turn on

and off

like a switch

it does not emulate from my body

or your empty words

breathed softly

against my ear

It begins

and grows

in my mind

in my heart

in that murky place

coiled deep within my brains labyrinth

If you cannot stimulate

my intellect

my emotion

my passion

you most certainly will not be able to stimulate

my beautifully complicated pussy

So run your games

speak your empty words of lust

but don't you for one second think

a woman like me

is so simply aroused

I am deep

complicated

Your shallowness

is nothing more to me

than a pretty picture

Only my soul

can awaken

my sexual beast

If you haven't touched my soul

the beast remains asleep

And you

Nothing more than a pretty picture

By Holly Mischell Miely