Impact by Bobby Wilkinson
This is how it’s supposed to be, right?
We dance through the night into the morning
but it’s just dawning that you didn’t touch me last night.
What did I do wrong? Was it the thong? Was it my long blonde hair?
Did I not touch you right? Did I distract you?
But that’s just it!
I pushed and I spit to make your skin fit
to mine for that one moment where we collide,
I see red.
I see blue electric jump from your nerves, no curves,
I see yellow, the push of bone and breaking of barriers,
I see red, pulsing.
Pulsating from the epicenter,
radiating through my leaking veins that taints my iris
I see white as my glass jaw is obliterated by your paw.
I hated how that never happened last night.
Well should I stop seeing rose?
Is it even me who sees pink
and associates it with soft skin and subtle shapes?
Is it my fault I have two prominent flaws strapped to my chest likes weights
therefore I carry more.
I carry years of men opening the door and saying you first whore
but then standing in the way because he knows you may
Merrionette your master waits.
He pulls your strings he pulls you into him not the ring,
Because the ring is no place for a pretty pet like you.
Oh the shame if they cause you pain!
Even when you place your neck into the gap of the frame and say0)
Hey! Close the door.
This is poem based of my experiences as a female MMA fighter and a woman in the sport. It is wrote for performance, I hope to get the chance to perform it at a spoken word event one day. I also used this poem as my devised section of LIPA’s audition process (with success).