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Mar 2018
Squeamish much?

Did he really think he could call my bluff?

By the way his shoulders fold out to hide his face I assume he sought

Now he's cleaning his mess from the floor, shattered like red rubies

Because he was referring to God but only saw himself in my shades as he accused me

And morality falters with every exhale he can muster

The thought of ripping his spine out, God knows would satisfy my interest in watching him suffer

He stood before me and spat how I was a waste of a woman

Because I prefer soft hands and collarbones, with love as passionate as a dressing room kiss

I said it's perpetually misunderstood in all of its bliss, my preference doesn't hold you liable

Neither, your ignorance

Something about the power invested in the moan of a woman, the throb in my heart causes my blood to flow hotter and brighter

He said its blasphemy, frowned upon in the Bible

So I took his girlfriend for a joyride and taught her how to really smile
Britney Garcia
Written by
Britney Garcia  25/F/TX
       --- and Me Díaz
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