So,
It's been a couple of weeks
and I'm starting to see:
there isn't much else
that you need from me.
It seems that for you
lust is simply enough,
you forgot about love
once you learned how to ****.
I'm surprised that your sweat
never came out in black,
that the heat never caused
ink to bleed off your back.

Now,
I've seen plenty of woman
use two men as a whole
I'm just not used to fulfilling
the physical role;
I've always been the one listening
on the phone late at night
wondering what your resting head
on my chest would feel like.
But now I'm the one
with my arms 'round your waist
who knows exactly how bitter
your lips always taste.

And,
it took me a while
to finally discover
that of these two halves
I was meant for the other.
Previous women all found
that I'm too thoughtful and kind,
that instead of stroking your ego
I'd rather pleasure you mind.
They say nice guys finish last,
it's the age old curse,
at least it made me feel good
knowing that you finished first.

So,
I'm calling it quits
while I've still got my head,
before I get used
to the scent of your bed,
because every time
that I've ever tried to talk
you tell me your busy
or you're out for a walk.
I just need to find someone
who wants to know me,
wants to dissect all my thoughts
and know why I breathe.


At least I know I can make you scream