She needs you now,

not at her birthday parties

wearing an awkward smile for pictures.

Don’t come around

when she’s calling me mommy AND daddy.

This isn’t even about you being a man,

it’s about you being a dad,

a dad to our little girl,

the one you spoke so highly about

until I started to show,

the one you spoke so highly about

until I told you what you had already known.

Eso me pasa por ser estupida

y llevarme de ti.

She looks nothing like me,

she looks just like her deadbeat dad.

Watching her sleep makes me glad that I had her.

Her and I,

we’ve been through so much alone but together.

isn’t just about slowing down the pace or whispering “I love you” while looking into your lovers eyes.

Making love isn’t planned, it just happens.

Making love is the loudest silence you’ll ever hear.

Making love is more than two people, it’s two plus two souls.

Making love contains a lot of ingredients but is simple to make.

Making love will have you smiling for days.

I was forgetting what making love is like so I had to remind myself

to forget you,

make believe you never existed.

Your place in my heart,

make believe it never existed.

You being you is what caused me to want you out of my life.

Everything felt right,

too right,

nothing left to the imagination.

You’re everything I want, wanted, had.

Close to perfect,

you’ll now be a memory of the past because I was too scared,

too scared to make our love last.

She looked good, nah **** it, she looked amazing.

We wanted to share so much but we only had a New York minute.

We updated old digits with the hopes of catching up.

She told me that there were so many things that she wanted to tell me,

things that she could only tell me.

After all these years she still had trust in me.

Seeing her however brought back winds of the past.

After all these years, I realized that I still hated her.

We lost our love last Sunday, on laundry day.

It must have been tangled up in the sheets

because I don’t remember the last time that we made love.

This is bigger than that one sock that always goes missing.

We should have hand washed everything.

because we never argued.

Oh how badly I wanted to argue.

We resembled a boat on steady waters.

I wanted the occasional storm.

Her socks always matched

and her hair was always did.

I was miserable.

She was happy.

Lunch time couldn’t come soon enough.

I had 15min to get to her place.

Two trains, SOHO to Williamsburg,

the city to Brooklyn.

Que locura!

She would wait for me in her aqua blue bathrobe,

the one with the holes in the back.

We were animals, racing to see who would *** first.

Afterwards I would quickly devour a plate of cold tostones and scrambled eggs.

My trip back to work was full of paranoia.

Felt like all eyes were on me

and that I had poured on a bottle of *** scented cologne.

Que locura!