Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow

Yesterday, I promised I'd stop.
Mesmerized, I try to tell my tales
but I'm never happy with the stories I weave.
I forced myself away from the screen
and promised no more dirty telling.

Today, I woke up running my hands over my full breasts.
I slid down my chest, my stomach, my hips,
only stopping at my moist, hairless lips.
I touched, self-fucked, mind-fucked, hip-bucked
and realized
with shame
that I still have stories to tell.

Tomorrow, I will start to tell my stories.
No more pretending, only the real.
I know I am not perfect
when
I curve but should be straight
I kneel when I should stand tall
I spread when I should keep closed
I say yes when I could say no.


This is what I was, what I am, what I will be.
Full breasts, stomach, hips,
soft lips, big eyes, big heart,
and the realization that I am this
dirty, naughty girl who cannot stop
who must tell her stories
yesterday, today, and tomorrow.