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I'm not the girl that you want, I’m the girl that you lust— the one you think you might love because my heart feels warmer than the sun. My body: a place of passion and fun. It’s what you think, right? Until it’s time to commit. Yes, you want it to work— but at what expense, when my heart ends up poor? Haunted by your lustful eyes that admire other women, I go from carefree and wild to becoming more insecure than a child. Locking myself in a cage, leaving you with nothing but a hairpin to pick through, to try to win me again. I’m not the girl they want. I’m the girl they lust. The one who’s fun for one night— but after months, you start to see why I hide. All the rigid lines of every lie I’ve been told; your voice now muffled by the sound of letting you go. Every tear lands on the thinnest strands of my hair, leaving whispers of pain before they reach the end of my pillow. The moon has witnessed every battle I’ve died in. She revived me when my blood trickled closer to my eyelids. Ask her how she kept my limp body from composing, how every wound is healed— but never enough to cope with disaster. As if my fate is swimming in lustful waters that always drown me. So say it again— how you love me, how you’ll change. But my heart doesn’t work like normal; I’ve been part of these games. My mind only knows how to protect my heart, so how would I know the difference between what’s real and what’s not? Oh, I’m leaving, I’m running— it’s all that I do. I’ll be sorry for leaving a man just like you. Isn’t that right? Isn’t that true? —or will you be sorry for turning my bright love to blue?
0
Nov 9, 2025
Nov 9, 2025 at 12:46 AM UTC
Lust for life
I'm not the girl that you want, I’m the girl that you lust— the one you think you might love because my heart feels warmer than the sun. My body: a place of passion and fun. It’s what you think, right? Until it’s time to commit. Yes, you want it to work— but at what expense, when my heart ends up poor? Haunted by your lustful eyes that admire other women, I go from carefree and wild to becoming more insecure than a child. Locking myself in a cage, leaving you with nothing but a hairpin to pick through, to try to win me again. I’m not the girl they want. I’m the girl they lust. The one who’s fun for one night— but after months, you start to see why I hide. All the rigid lines of every lie I’ve been told; your voice now muffled by the sound of letting you go. Every tear lands on the thinnest strands of my hair, leaving whispers of pain before they reach the end of my pillow. The moon has witnessed every battle I’ve died in. She revived me when my blood trickled closer to my eyelids. Ask her how she kept my limp body from composing, how every wound is healed— but never enough to cope with disaster. As if my fate is swimming in lustful waters that always drown me. So say it again— how you love me, how you’ll change. But my heart doesn’t work like normal; I’ve been part of these games. My mind only knows how to protect my heart, so how would I know the difference between what’s real and what’s not? Oh, I’m leaving, I’m running— it’s all that I do. I’ll be sorry for leaving a man just like you. Isn’t that right? Isn’t that true? —or will you be sorry for turning my bright love to blue?
yamilet-nguyen
Written by
Nov 9, 2025
Nov 9, 2025 at 12:46 AM UTC
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