Mar 2018
The Babe
The Beauty
The Beast
Which one are you?
Which one are me?
The Babe
Ignoring texts after texts of subpar conversation prefixed
With dry "hey" 's or "how are you?"
And occasionally the simple "Wyd? [insert emoji]"
Which seems to relay a level of mediocrity in the ability to sustain an exchange of thoughts. Consistently anyways. But you know what they say.
"I just want to be your friend" Come on. For pretend obviously. Because if it was for real, it would be quite easy to see I'm well aware of where the evidence of this centered on self motif is horribly discarded in texts. Selfishness masked as mendacious selflessness. The ignorance. The Babe.
The Beauty.
The Beast.
Which one are you?
Which one are me?
The Beauty.
Girl next door. Classy cutie. Undermined time after time for her subtle nature. Settling for the flesh. Dressed in pure excellence. You know, beautiful skin. Lips. ****. Thighs. Shoulder shrug to show content. Or complacency rather. With the fact that knowing names doesn't matter. Or even knowing simple dislikes in spite often physical affection. But that's the beauty of keeping it superficial. it's not really a soulful connection. Just a collision of two vessels. The Beauty.
The Beast.
Which one are you?
Which one are me?
The Beast. Not wasting time to show you I'm yours. See, you being mine isn't any concern of mine because well, when you know your worth you don't wait to be told you're worthy. You go for what's yours without mercy. And I'm not just saying this as if
You don't have a choice
But you know a go getter gon get it.
and you are somebody I'm trying to get it with. Because see, I'm not just trying to grow, I'm trying to flourish. Nor am I trying to be tamed. Just let me be the Beast, that sees the Beauty in you, Babe.
The Beauty
The Beast
Which one are you?
Which one are me?
The Babe
Ignoring texts after texts of subpar conversation prefixed
With dry "hey" 's or "how are you?"
And occasionally the simple "Wyd? [insert emoji]"
Which seems to relay a level of mediocrity in the ability to sustain an exchange of thoughts. Consistently anyways. But you know what they say.
"I just want to be your friend" Come on. For pretend obviously. Because if it was for real, it would be quite easy to see I'm well aware of where the evidence of this centered on self motif is horribly discarded in texts. Selfishness masked as mendacious selflessness. The ignorance. The Babe.
The Beauty.
The Beast.
Which one are you?
Which one are me?
The Beauty.
Girl next door. Classy cutie. Undermined time after time for her subtle nature. Settling for the flesh. Dressed in pure excellence. You know, beautiful skin. Lips. ****. Thighs. Shoulder shrug to show content. Or complacency rather. With the fact that knowing names doesn't matter. Or even knowing simple dislikes in spite often physical affection. But that's the beauty of keeping it superficial. it's not really a soulful connection. Just a collision of two vessels. The Beauty.
The Beast.
Which one are you?
Which one are me?
The Beast. Not wasting time to show you I'm yours. See, you being mine isn't any concern of mine because well, when you know your worth you don't wait to be told you're worthy. You go for what's yours without mercy. And I'm not just saying this as if
You don't have a choice
But you know a go getter gon get it.
and you are somebody I'm trying to get it with. Because see, I'm not just trying to grow, I'm trying to flourish. Nor am I trying to be tamed. Just let me be the Beast, that sees the Beauty in you, Babe.
