I fall asleep with books in my bed
Praying that somehow there language will meet me in my dreams
Cause being 8 weeks
8 weeks late
Means I get some kind of redeeming
God I hope I'm just dreaming
And this late is not the kind of late that gets you half credit
Or misses the morning train
No this is the kind of late that haunts you
and you are left waiting
Takin extra precaution
Gracing you hands over your abdomen
A resounding "I'm not ready"
Pounds the inside of your skull
And you feel guilty
Because when the little pink t
Appears
you feel more like a woman
And less alone
But you know
This ain't the plan
I didn't opt out for the cheap seats
I got places to go
And things to do
So tuck your piece of plastic in the tiny trash can
Because this shit is got to be negative
I'm 25 and knew better
Knew better than to mix myself up with an ex
Fuck it. He looks good. It's only sex.
And I've been drinking and he has too
The rum sets off a buzz like halogen bulb
Knock knock He approaches the door
Swagged up and ready
I hold myself steady
And we stepped into something
And We got our shoes wet
He looked blurry
Like the road he took to my 3rd floor walk up
Aged him
And as quickly as I had forgotten
his hands covered my mouth
And he kissed my arms and chained me to the bed
Come on baby just give me a little head
I'm not ur baby
And I don't want yours either
Get the fuck off of me
Because things have changed
You don't get to make my decisions for me
You don't dictate my story
My ink is at the press
I'm already in love with someone else
If I truly confess
But you tricked me
What was a little fun turned into a nightmare
And what I thought was mere inches
Was a fucking long ass mile
And You smile
The evil corners of your mouth twitch upward
Like bully
You forced me into a decision
Well I got something to say to your little vision
I went to the doctor
And he said its true
I'm not having your fucking baby
So go fuck you.