Oral Fixation

By Nurulhuda Arslan

I was a


A blemish
on the family name

Shorn of my hair
Gloves on my hands.
Just saving you, they said,
Boys don’t like freaky girls.

Yet still I yearn for that familiar weight
Pressing against my tongue

I compensate
Replacing flesh with inanimate objects
Pens, pencils, straws, spoons
Offer comfort


The urge to fill that hole in my face
But again they go accusing me of indecency
Be a lady, don’t bring shame upon the family name

So I rebel against the compulsion
Reign in my straying fingers
Grit my teeth so that
I won’t stain

That precious family name

I am master of my body now
No longer harbouring
Any desire to suck

Yet still I find

That no boy

Wants me


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