Does a thick woman ever feel her patience wearing thin, while
her man wears a beard, ready to take her every mood by the chin?
He’s dating a girl named Erin, who hates it when he cuts his hair,
and runs errands. She made him ink a tattoo on his neck, declaring,
“property of Erin’s,” then she decided to shave her head, but she's
now wearing a wig— _a real bold choice._ While her man is plagued
by countless voices, but he himself, doesn’t have much of a voice.
She swiftly cleans up her act for the public eye – _she's a minute maid,_
with a juicy figure that could turn any man to pulp; and she’s also
self-made. And he’s like an empire of ants, bearing more than his
own weight. But he’s not much of a saint, his mischief thrives when
she’s far away, and it can never wait. He keeps a side piece as a
thought to chew on, always clearing off his plate.
They picture a relationship, but lack the means to truly relate –
just a ship; claiming they’re on the same boat; _being each other’s
bait._ “Plenty of fish in the sea,” but they leave hooks in one another,
after they hook up. Never pausing to Google for their worth; it’s right
there, just look up– to the writing on the wall. "We’re all crumbling
on each other"; if these walls could speak. As countless feet trample
on each other’s toes, in these crowded streets of Love, we seek.
Paved in toxicity – a toxic city, where toxic lovers inhale toxic fumes.
Easily fuming when being called out; the headlines of these daily
romances, all spell bad news.
Apr 14, 2025
Apr 14, 2025 at 4:10 AM UTC
Does a thick woman ever feel her patience wearing thin, while
her man wears a beard, ready to take her every mood by the chin?
He’s dating a girl named Erin, who hates it when he cuts his hair,
and runs errands. She made him ink a tattoo on his neck, declaring,
“property of Erin’s,” then she decided to shave her head, but she's
now wearing a wig— _a real bold choice._ While her man is plagued
by countless voices, but he himself, doesn’t have much of a voice.
She swiftly cleans up her act for the public eye – _she's a minute maid,_
with a juicy figure that could turn any man to pulp; and she’s also
self-made. And he’s like an empire of ants, bearing more than his
own weight. But he’s not much of a saint, his mischief thrives when
she’s far away, and it can never wait. He keeps a side piece as a
thought to chew on, always clearing off his plate.
They picture a relationship, but lack the means to truly relate –
just a ship; claiming they’re on the same boat; _being each other’s
bait._ “Plenty of fish in the sea,” but they leave hooks in one another,
after they hook up. Never pausing to Google for their worth; it’s right
there, just look up– to the writing on the wall. "We’re all crumbling
on each other"; if these walls could speak. As countless feet trample
on each other’s toes, in these crowded streets of Love, we seek.
Paved in toxicity – a toxic city, where toxic lovers inhale toxic fumes.
Easily fuming when being called out; the headlines of these daily
romances, all spell bad news.
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