I wake up in a room i don't remember.
The wallpaper is falling off,
the bathroom stinks like hell,
and the roof hides this nightmare.
This the life of a paid for an hour lover.
I turn on the TV, the money all over the bed,
a disgusting taste in my mouth, my clothes ripped,
which means another trip to the second hand store.
I guess i have won this kind of life.
To be the toy of married, ugly,
disgusting, fat or bored men looking for just
a little love making machine where they encrust their rusted keys.
I wanted to be a movie star just like Marylin Monroe.
To be loved by all men, not used by them,
I wanted to be rich and not beg or do some
"infantile" or "inoffensive" favors in return of green paper.
I wash up my face and realize I'm worth nothing.
I am nobody just a little whore, using an excuse
for getting easy money. I pick up my stuff and walk slowly down
the hallway saying goodbye to my One Night Mansion Motel.
A contest entry
- Woman in a motel by AJ Morelli.
2000 points, ended May 27, 2008, 22 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What comes to your mind when you read this?
Comments
-
I think this may be better as a straight prose piece, with its lack of metaphor and imagery (with the exception of "where they encrust their rusted keys", which is nice)
hope this isn't autobiographical...
thanks
al -
"Where they encrust their rusted keys" Its a powerful line... a powerful piece. Intense and sad... it creates an intriguing mix of emotions, you wrote it out very well. Good luck in the contest.
-Ashes
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