The Sex Scene - A Poem
#2 of Owletrons' Scrap Book
Embellishment is a helluva drug.
I write
Like I know what sex is,
Like I have enough exes
To go through the intricacies,
And not fall into fallacies
Of what romance means
Besides taking off shirts and jeans
And being unclean,
Having dirty thoughts,
And yelling the obscene.
Advice and anecdotes
Don't leave me prepared
To avoid the tropes
And not be scared
That I over-embellish
And hide the truth
That sex can be ugly
And I'm being uncouth
In front of all that can judge me.
But they tell me I'm fine
That they liked my stories,
Like they're spared the fate of the horny
Who read 'round the plot
And get to the shame
But I'm not fucking judging,
Cause I do the same!
What monsters we are
To look just to get off.
No, is that even true?
What's the point if it's not?
I want to love my characters
I want to hate their flaws
I want to feel what they feel
Not just with dicks in maws,
But with teeth and claws.
Cause when they're in my head,
What gives them weight
Isn't what they do in bed
But what combined their fate.
What the fandom has taught me
Is not that I need a new drug
It's that I need someone who's not me
To know me, and still want to hug.