it has been discovered
by yours truly
that no matter how bad your thighs look when you sit down in booty shorts
it's fucking worth it
you don't need to sit down anyway
you're a girl.
they'll take you standing up
or anywhere else
they can get you
just wear those booty shorts,
fucking fuck fucker.
I wish you would
Look into my eyes
As you thrust
Deep between my thighs
I wish you would kiss me
On the lips
The pair north
Of my hips
I wish you would hold me
Just for a moment or so
Before you get dressed
and say you gotta' go
I wish you cared
Or tried to love me
But I'm just your booty call,
And all you do is fuck me.
I've got guilt choking all of my good juju.
I’m sorry I told you we’d hang out
just so I could come over
to watch Breaking Bad.
You know I need that
I’m sorry I didn't sit on the porch steps
with you afterward
while you had your evening cigarette.
(I could have done that at least.)
I imagined you
drive down the street &
out of your sight—
a lit cigarette hung limply from your lips.
I felt your disappointment &
I cursed my mother for teaching me
to have such a sharp sense of empathy.
I know I’ll never be badass enough
not to care.
I realize I was born to give
one too many fucks.
I've learned to accept it
as my incessant character flaw.
(It could be worse.)
I have to be honest,
I get my kicks
entertaining the notion
that for one evening
the one that got away.
...and waiting for you.
time passes slowly.
i check the clock a million times,
i turn on the tv to pass the time...
it's hours later.
all excuses given in your honor
i realize how tired i am.
i stumble to bed
cursing about the wasted make-up.
I never wanted to get lost in your eyes. I knew where I was going before you pushed your way into my life.
The way you walk is something that concerns me. I shouldn’t fall in love with the way someone walks. But it’s as if you’re walking…just to protect me.
I thought you could be different and I believed you when you stepped into my bitter world, shield and sword in hand. But as it turns out, they were just plastic toys you grabbed from the back of your closet. Your armor was made of tin foil.
I never asked to be your booty call.
I never asked for a booty call to be called a booty call. It seems so childish and it’s like, isn’t the stuff that goes on during a booty call not meant for kids at all?
When you said you were happy to be with me, I made a huge mistake by picturing sunlight around your words, when they were really just a really terrible rainstorm.
These confessions are tiring my heart, and I feel as though I can no longer put it through the pain of talking to you.
The only reason you wanted to see me tonight was because you’re selfish and insensitive. You call me pretty because you like the way my shirt looks when you throw it on the floor.
I’m looking for so much more.
You’re concerned with the sheets and the pillow and sweat and the moans…but I’m concerned with the intensity and the immensity and the true nature of the connection between souls.
You’re no longer welcome in my heart.
I thought I saw something there, in the way your hands rested on my hips. But I think it’s just a little fairy dust clouding my vision.