Tourists

Tourists. Looking for adventures, no matter what.

Some of them have girlfriends, some of them have wives

All of them want honey from my Tree of Life.

Who am I?

Once I thought I was a queen, extra sensual, super sweet

But maybe I’m just a piece of meat

To be devoured on the feast of lust and sin

And then, they leave

With their loins full of me, they go back to their homes

To their true loves

I stay, empty, wide-open

Picking up my clothes and hopes from the floor.

Maybe I’m just a trophy

A golden coin in a video game

Shining and bright, I give you an extra life

You gotta have me, you gotta level up

No matter who’s waiting on the other side

Your princess will never find out

But your comrades will

And that’s worth every risk.

Maybe, I’m just a treat

A little pleasure next to Snickers and strawberry drink

Nothing serious, nothing to take a man from his life path

Even when I was ready to abandon everything

For that one man

My goals, my dreams, my dignity, my success

It was not enough to win the ticket to his life.

Tourists. Oh, if I could, I would rip off their throats!

Chop them into pieces

Burn them on the altar of my soul

I would enter the flames and let them cleanse my disgrace

And when it’s done, I would rise like a Phoenix

Stronger than ever before

I would stand naked on top of the world

Proudly present the sacred nest of my feminine love

And I would shout out loud

NO TOURISTS ALLOWED!

POEM FEATURED IN THE NOVEL HAPPY EVER(YWHERE) AFTER.